To Be a Mother
by HeartElyse
Summary: After a month of peculiar symptoms, our dear Ciel falls extremely ill...with something quite unimaginable... NOT YAOI. COVER IMAGE NOT MINE.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys!**

 **Welcome to yet another Black Butler fic of mine! To all of you wondering if this is the 'controversial' story I was talking about, than yes, you guessed it right!**

 **I've seen this kind of story done several times before, but I never really liked how any of them turned out. I'm not saying they were bad stories, but personally, I just didn't enjoy them, which is just my opinion. So, I wanted to do this type of story in my own way, and keep it from being yaoi, which is the controversial part about it, since all of these stories are usually portrayed as yaoi.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!**

 **Please review and fav!**

 **HeartElyse**

 **XXX**

 ** _TO BE A MOTHER - CHAPTER ONE_**

The winter's morning was that of rare fortune. It was, of course, bitterly cold and frigid, with its icy breezes and chilling frosts. But even so, it was fortunate nonetheless.

The Phantomhive Estate was the very vision of beauty, its violet roofs piled high with ivory snow and its pale brick exterior glistening with a sheen of frozen dew. The sky was heatless, yet clear all the same, blanched with the reflection of the sleet-covered grounds below, but unabashedly brilliant, its ambiance and vivaciousness matching that of a young maiden who had been asked for her hand in marriage, and had it been anyone else but the Phantomhive Earl who had been doused in its incredible beams, it would have been most rightfully admired.

But alas, it _had_ been the Phantomhive Earl who had been doused in its incredible beams, and instead of admiring it, as many would do, he scorned it, cursing it for its harshness against his bleary, sleep-lidded eyes, for in the mornings - as it was fondly known - the Young Lord was not an agreeable boy to be handling.

It was a brutal awakening. Lights stabbed into Ciel's eyes like absurdly-hot iron pokers, which only assisted in making the incessant ache in the base of his skull all the more intolerable. Ciel recoiled from it, finding immense solace in the kind darkness of his pillow, where he hid his eyes, shielding them entirely from the unforgiving glower of the sun. However, his reprieve from the torment didn't last, for in a matter of moments, an utterance could be heard chiming just by the edge of his delicate earlobe, the tone of it as refined as white silk and as rich as warmed honey. But still, it managed to grate at Ciel's pulsing brain, regardless of how smooth it was.

"My Lord, it is time to wake up."

The boy could do nothing in response but moan, his mouth too preoccupied with the cotton balls of sleep to conceive a single word. The smooth voice from above merely purred with amusement, the octaves dipping in such a way that one could easily describe it as demeaning, much to the Earl's distaste.

"Come now, my Lord. You have quite a busy schedule ahead of you today. Surely you don't wish to be late?"

Upon the eyes of the cushion alone, Ciel scowled, justly infuriated by the obvious challenge his deceitful butler had placed upon him, aware just as equally as Sebastian that he could not refuse it, for it would be against all his customs to do so. Huffing tediously, Ciel painstakingly arose from his comforting cocoon of blankets, positioning his petite arms beneath him as he flipped himself from his stomach over to his back and hoisted himself upwards so that he was seated upon his mattress with his head resting back warily against his bed head.

Well, only to vomit as a result. The nausea had been so abrupt and evident that not even he himself had perceived its warning. Spluttering with vigour, bile spilled, gushing out from quivering lips, scolding his throat to shreds. Sick spoiled everything, cloying skin in pasty grit and soaking sheets in mustardy fluid. And Ciel could do nothing but witness himself through higher eyes, utterly mortified by the unforeseen turn of his condition, stunned so throughly by the suddenness of the change that he did not even bother to restrain himself in the least.

The butter held fast for a moment, observing the scene with an atmosphere of utter disorientation, his scarlet irises shrinking upon the whites of his narrow eyes. However, as his immediate shock depleted, the demon's features twisted into impervious indifference as he flung himself into action, materialising a small rubbish can before the boy's cupped hands, for which the child clung to eagerly, finishing his purging with a final few heaves into the bin.

Panting haggardly, Ciel reclined back against the pillows, his throbbing head careening along a path of dizziness. He was totally repulsed by his own state and did not hesitate to express so as he turned his tired bi-coloured eyes upon Sebastian, his gaze speaking his discomfort more boldly than words ever could. The butler complied immediately, scooping the feverish boy up into his slender arms and carrying him flawlessly into the adjoined bathroom.

Once within the chamber, Sebastian cautiously eased the sick-riddled child down against the tiled wall, and then directed his attention to the bath, where he turned on the faucets, allowing steaming water to flood the basin. He chose carefully the incense he would combine with the water, as he did not wish to arouse his master's nausea any further, but felt obligated to at least disguise the stench of vomit that had most certainly settled into his Lord's skin by now. Eventually, he decided upon rosewater, as it was dense in its aroma, but pleasant on the senses, and with a plain milk soap to be its counterpart, his master would not be muddled by conflicting scents. That would cause more of a headache than what was warranted.

Whirling around to his master as he waited for the water to rise, Sebastian was instantly introduced to the boy's struggles as the child strained for breath with a throat that was clearly hacked and mauled by his earlier affliction, his forehead supported by his remarkably unmarred knees as he sat hunched over himself, his hands laying palm-up on the floor beside him to prevent himself from spreading his sickness any further. Sensing his Lord's urgent need, Sebastian fetched a glass by the edge of the sink and filled it with lukewarm water before kneeling down by his master, offering it out to the boy. When the child made no inclination to respond, Sebastian patiently asserted pressure upon the boy's chin, forcing the Earl's heads from his knees and - with the rim of the glass placed intricately upon the child's blanched lips - tipped the water into the boy's mouth. His master drank earnestly, obviously despising the vulgar taste of vomit that had corrupted his tongue, for which Sebastian had to remind him to ease, fearing another bout of nausea.

"Why didn't you just tell me of your ailments, my Lord?" Sebastian inquired once the glass had been sufficiently downed.

"I-I didn't…know," Ciel defended, his voice rasping with each feeble word.

"Ah, I see," Sebastian exclaimed as he shut off the faucets and began to undress the boy, relieving him of his vomit-sodden nightshirt and tossing it aside to be laundered later. Welcoming an amiable smile to his fine lips, Sebastian did not hesitate to once again gather his frail master in his arms and escort him to the bathtub, paying no mind to the biting odour that wafted from the poorly boy. "Now, if you will, my Lord, allow me to get you cleaned up."

Hearing no cry of protest, Sebastian lowered the boy down into the basin, submerging him up to his very neck in the therapeutic-smelling water. The child visibly relaxed, the springs and knots in his shoulder blades unraveling as his limbs fell limp and his frame sagged against the porcelain palisade of the bathtub, his breathing rapidly stabilising as a result. Fetching a sponge and the milk soap, Sebastian started at the front, rubbing the foam over the boy's slight chest, up along the timid plush of his bloodless cheeks, across his short, scrawny arms, and to the very tips of his wavering fingers. The image was appalling, with unsightly sick combining with the lather, becoming a mixture of pristine white and feral grease. However, Sebastian did not even acknowledge it, for he had seen far worse.

Yet, as the butler ventured the sponge downwards to the boy's abdomen, he instantly became aware of how much it risen. The flatness of the child's stomach was a physical treasure that had always been admired, but had also been the jealously of many ladies that could only dream of achieving such perfection. However, it appeared ravished, and it slowly had been ravishing over the course of which Sebastian began noticing it - a month - but despite all the butler's prestige, he could not determine why. Nothing within the boy's diet had been changed. Nothing at all in the boy's schedule had been altered. So unless the child had been sneaking unbidden sweets - to which he'd know - than there was no rational explanation.

Ciel had become familiar with it too. But his bloated stomach had not been the only change that he'd become familiar with. Fatigue and dizziness had become correspondent in day-to-day life, as had constant headaches and mild bouts of nausea, however, never to the degree of vomiting as he had now. Also, food that he'd once adored, such as strawberries and clotted cream were now the bane of his palette, and foods that he'd just as equally hated, such as blue cheese and olive tartare had become the song of his appetite. It was all very mystifying, yet also merited his concern, for he could see no reason for these radical changes unless there was something wrong with him. But as of what, he did not know, nor did he want to. He could only hope that whatever was plaguing him would simply dissipate and leave him be in due time.

"Please close your eyes, my Lord," instructed Sebastian, to which Ciel obliged, goading his eyes softly shut in preparation for the bucketful of opaque warm water that was dunked over his head only seconds after, rinsing away the final remnants of the morning's tortures. Releasing an overwhelming sigh, Ciel raised himself from the soapy void of the bath, stationing himself upon his own shaking feet, shoving away Sebastian's offers of support, for he was feeling much better and could stand just fine on his own.

The air outside the bathtub was cold, and Ciel shivered, thankful for the fluffy ivory towel that was furled attentively around his shoulders in reply to his obvious chill. Sebastian proceeded in drying the boy, lightly dabbing the consoling fabric over the child's residue-coated skin, wiping away the last of the water that served only to mar it.

"Do you wish for me to call a doctor, Master?" Sebastian questioned as he smoothed the towel over the boy's slim feet.

"No," came his Lord's measured answer, his tone once again as steely as ever. "I will be fine now. Just get me dressed for the day. After all, my schedule is busy, as you say."

"Yes, my Lord," replied the demon, yet Sebastian could not rid himself of the insignificant foreboding that not all was as it should have been…


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys!**

 **Welcome to the second chapter of 'To Be a Mother'. I apologise for the slight delay! This week has been super hectic for me, but I hope things will calm down soon! My aim is to post a new chapter every week at some point, so make sure to keep your eyes and ears open so you don't miss out!**

 **Anyway, I've had a few questions about why this story is controversial, and I'm just going to say that you will see soon enough! I'm just going to let the story confirm it for you! Although, do keep in mind that this story is NOT YAOI and DOES NOT CONTAIN ANY SEXUAL CONTENT.**

 **Thank you to all the amazing reviews I've received already! Your support is always highly appreciated!**

 **Enjoy!**

 **HeartElyse**

 **XXX**

 _ **TO BE A MOTHER - CHAPTER TWO**_

A week lapsed, and Ciel's condition did not ease. Each morning would be just as it was the morning before, with Ciel stirring in a fit of painful nausea and vomiting. However, Sebastian had seen himself to be more prepared for the daily ritual, with a rubbish container always at his disposal in case his Lord did not quite arrive at the bathroom in time. The sickness grew more demanding with each passing day until eventually, the butler was forced to confine his master to bedrest, fearing the daily strains of expectation were causing the child's grievances to escalate all the more. By early Sunday afternoon - with his master dilapidated to the point in which he could barely move - the child finally caved. He commanded his butler to call for a doctor immediately, to which the demon complied, dialling for the most reliable of the Phantomhive doctors; a Mr Peter Marat.

"Dr Marat?" Sebastian sussed into the speaker of the brass telephone. "Ah, what a pleasure to speak with you once again, good sir. This is the Phantomhive Butler, Sebastian Michaelis, from the Phantomhive Estate… Yes, and to you. Now, you see, I was wondering if it wouldn't be a bother to you to come for a visit. The Young Lord has been most poorly as of late and I am starting to become concerned for his wellbeing… That would be most appreciated… Thank you."

With the preparations made, Sebastian veered back up the stairs to his Lord with a speed that not even a Grim Reaper could begin to comprehend, and invited himself into the child's gloomy chambers, only to find the boy as he was before; veiled in the darkness that had been produced by the curtains as he lay sprawled upon the mattress, swallowed by the blankets, his flushed and clammy face peeking out from the boastful plumes of the pillows. Sebastian may have given himself leeway to snigger, if it had been another circumstance.

"Dr Marat will arrive within the hour. Is there anything you need, my Lord?"

"S-some water," the fourteen-year-old boy husked in reply, the sound just managing to leave his flaking lips.

Inclining his head a slight margin, Sebastian whirled around, willing to handle this errand with as much swiftness as he could possibly employ.

XXX

True to his word, the front doorbell shrieked at exactly one minute before the next hour begun. Answering it, Sebastian was not at all bewildered to discover Dr Marat standing by the threshold, an exceedingly humble man with puffs of white-grey hair dancing over his doe-like eyes and his ivory coat as immaculately pristine as ever.

"Ah, Dr Marat," Sebastian greeted with his most benevolent of smirks, stooping low in a bow of welcome. "Earl Phantomhive has been expecting you."

"Yes, as I've heard," the doctor answered with his cheeriest of grins, the corners of his lips stretching so wide that his eyes wrinkled.

Sebastian stepped aside and opened the door wide in a mannerly fashion. "Well, let's not keep him waiting."

"I couldn't agree more," Dr Marat obliged, striding through the expansive double doors of the mansion and following the butler up the adjacent stairway and into the winding labyrinth beyond.

After a slim bout of silence, the doctor finally asked, "Do forgive me, Mr Michaelis, but just how poorly is the Young Earl?"

Sebastian sighed wearily, a mere dramatisation of his true (or rather nonexistent) emotions, but a dramatisation that served its purpose all the same. "Very poorly, I'm afraid, good doctor," he stated, but instead of ending his speech right there, he went so far as to mention every possible symptom that he'd encountered not only in the week that had passed, but in the several before it. He spoke of the boy's unrequited nausea and vomiting; his constant fatigue; his persistent headaches; even his odd cravings for foods he had never been able to stand and even more unusual sickliness towards foods he had once enjoyed. But to cap it all off, he mentioned how the boy was still gaining weight, despite his daily habit of barfing, which was the most peculiar thing of all.

The doctor appeared most put out by this statement, possibly more due to the quickness of its delivery than the actual oddness of the symptoms provided.

"Peculiar indeed," added the doctor, his gaze contemplative as he combed his fingers over the fine stubble of his chin. "These are most unusual symptoms. I think it was wise to call on me; leaving this issue any longer might have been quite hazardous."

"I'm glad you agree, Doctor," Sebastian stated over his shoulder, his lips curving slightly.

Reaching the door to his master's bedchambers, Sebastian graciously rapped his knuckles upon its polished wooden surface, coaxing a pitiful "Enter" from the residence within. With permission granted, Sebastian entered the room, the doctor in toe, finding his master still as he had been before.

"My Lord, Dr Marat is here to see you."

On ceremony, Ciel hefted himself upwards slightly - not regarding how it pained him profusely to do so - feeling it rude to lay about in the presence of guests, in spite of how ill he was.

The doctor fashioned himself a bow of respect before rushing over the boy's side, most enthused to determine the source of the problem. "Please, my Lord, do not sit up if it proves uncomfortable to do so."

Immediately, the child submitted, sinking back downwards into the covers with the meekest of whimpers, anguish blazing in his single sapphire eye.

Satisfied, Dr Marat began to reveal a petite collection of tools and trinkets from the leather-bound suitcase that he was clad with. Turning back to the Earl, he conjured an assuring smile to his vast lips, speaking gently, as though he feared that a tone louder might cause damage to his aggrieved patient. "Now, I am just going to give you a once over, and hopefully through that, we will be able to discover what the issue is."

He followed a protocol of medical tradition and habit, monitoring pulse, heart rate, blood pressure, temperature, glands, ears, eyes (or eye, in Ciel's case), and so forth. However, Dr Marat could not detect anything that might physically be able to hint to the crux of the problem, and ended up being more perplexed than when he had started. Finally, he huffed, defeat shinning like a beacon from his eyes as he addressed the Earl and his butler, informing the two to keep sincere watch on the condition for the next week that followed, and to call him again if the illness had not subsided by the end of it.

The doctor then conceived a small laugh, stating in blatant humour, "Please do forgive me, my Lord, but this would make perfect sense if you were female."

"And how so?" Ciel questioned in a tight, curious manner.

"Because in females, these symptoms are most common if one is pregnant."

This warranted a hearty chortle from the Young Earl, broken and strained, but hearty nonetheless. "But that would be preposterous; me, being pregnant? How amusing."

However, as Sebastian saw the doctor to the door and bid him fair well, he could sense the very tiny fronds of dread within him only increasing. Could his Young Lord be pregnant?


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys!**

 **I apologise for the slight delay again! I got really sick and couldn't bring myself to update the next chapter. But don't worry, it's here now, and I hope you all enjoy it!**

 **Just a few notes before you begin reading; first of all, just for anyone who might be a little sceptical, in the 19th century - especially in the late 19th century - toilets did exist and I believe that nobles that were rich could afford to have them in their houses. That last bit might not be accurate, but I thought a toilet might be a little bit easier to handle than a chamberpot, because...you know...**

 **And secondly, with all the stuff that's been going down in the manga recently - which I've been super ecstatic about - I just wanted to make you guys aware that while this story is based on the manga and is part of the mangaverse, Agni's death and the fact that Ciel has a twin and is not actually Ciel - maybe or maybe not; Yana may still be trying to pull our arms here (although I personally do believe that the 2CT is the real deal) - will completely ruin the story idea that I originally formulated in my mind. So for this story, Agni is alive, and Ciel is still Ciel and for the duration of the story at least, does not acknowledge a twin or has a twin who miraculously appears (although I may consider dropping little hints for the fun of it, hehe).**

 **One final thing; for anyone who is confused, I know Ciel is thirteen, but for this story, time has passed so that he is fourteen.**

 **Hope you like this chapter and please review!**

 **HeartElyse**

 **XXX**

 ** _To Be a Mother - Chapter Three_**

"Please, my Lord, do wake up. I realise you still feel quite poorly, and I sincerely apologise for that. But you have guests that have arrived, who are most eager to see you."

Ciel groaned earnestly, but complied nonetheless, shifting amidst the sea of blankets and rearing upwards from the mattress with the most agonised of grimaces.

It was Wednesday, and nothing at all had changed. Each morning was a perfect parallel to the one before it. The Young Lord would awaken, only to succumb to nausea and disgrace himself all the more by spending the following hours vomiting most raggedly into the toilet, granted no reprieve until he was practically sprawled across the bathroom floor, too fatigued to even stir. It distressed the child to no end, and the distress was contagious, defiling the butler's aesthetic in the most acute of fashions. Sebastian's concern for his Master was merely an extension of his human role, however, it was still substantial and thriving, causing great woe to the demon. If only he could be truly certain...

Yet his desire to be certain was irrelevant for the time being, as there were more pressing dilemmas to be tending to.

Dawn had brought the arrival of the prestigious Aunt Francis and her flamboyant daughter - who also so happened to be the Young Lord's fiancé - Elizabeth Midford. Immediately upon Sebastian's greeting, the two had demanded to speak with Ciel, feeling it wise to converse to the Earl about an all important ball that would be arising soon, that all those of the highest status in society were required to attend. However, Sebastian graciously declined their wishes, explaining in the most brisk of manners that "this really wasn't the right time." However, feeling shunted, the two boisterous ladies instantly began to ask questions, for which in answer, Sebastian relapsed and obliged, deciding it to be more agreeable to discuss the predicament with his master.

Now, with the boy awake and seated upon the mattress, the demon was most intrigued. The child, on any other more reasonable morning, would have understandably been hacking his guts up by now. But the Earl had not, and although he swallowed taxingly and his cheeks were flushed an eerie green, he appeared almost tolerable of his unseemly condition. An improvement to say the least.

"And these guests are?" Ciel croaked meekly, massaging his unresponsive eyes with the pale heels of his palms.

"The Marchioness Midford and your Fiancé, Lady Elizabeth."

Ciel formulated a pitiful groan in affect to the news, cradling his reeling head in his trembling hands, exercising great sympathy in himself for being in such an unpleasant situation.

"Can't you not just send them away?" The boy keened most desperately, his voice slim and depthless against the muffler that served to be his palms.

"I'm afraid not, my Lord," the butler replied most grievously, a remorseful shrug lifting from his shoulders. "I did attempt to, but they would not oblige unless I gave a legitimate excuse, for which I feared might cause more strife than good."

"So you decided it would be more efficient to force me out of bed in such a ghastly state to entertain uninvited guests?" Ciel inquired with the harshest tones of sarcasm that he could possibly muster in his depleted condition, a razor-sharp glare slashing out from between his frail fingers.

"You do seem a little better, my Lord," Sebastian announced, still astounded by the absence of vomit that was yet to be seen that morning. "You have managed to endure just over two and a half minutes without barfing."

"I still feel positively wretched," the boy countered before showing his face to the light, which had grown so colourless that it almost beamed in the Winter's ambience. "Very well. Dress me, and then begin preparations on breakfast. I can not allow my guests to go hungry, now can I?"

Sebastian smirked waspishly, submitting to his Master's orders with practiced ease. "Yes, my Lord."

Within fifteen minutes, Ciel exited his room for the first time in several days, rather ravishing in his suede jacket with matching pants and intricately designed leather boots, the refreshing colour of the fabric aiding to meld away the deathly hue of Ciel's complexion. Sebastian was closely in toe, observing his master in ominous foreboding as the boy shuddered and wavered upon his heels, in fear that the child's hazardous teetering might lead to disaster.

Entering the dining room, Ciel was almost entirely swooped from his feet by Lady Elizabeth. She enveloped him in her remarkably strong arms and floundered him about the whole circumference of the room, as was the exuberant manner of her greetings. However, her actions were not at all received most kindly, for the mere contact of her body against his caused just enough pressure upon his agitated stomach that his persistent nausea escalated by tenfold, and not forgetting to mention that her heedless spinning about was not serving to quell things in the slightest. Yet, despite this, Ciel did not express his discomfort for fear of causing offence, but gulped thickly, most eagerly determined to keep his illness very much inside him.

"Oh Ciel!" Lizzy squealed in her ascended voice, her every word feeling like singular, resounding blows to his palpitating skull. To his enormous relief, she finally subsided in her unrequited frolicking, but did not quite unravel her hold just yet, but stepped back to peer into his face, her lips breaking out into a childish pout. "I haven't heard from you in ages! You haven't sent a single letter! Not one!"

"I apologise, Elizabeth," Ciel heaved, beads of sweat beginning to cloy his forehead as the sensation of nausea continued to rapidly increase. "I have been extremely busy."

"How many times do I have to tell you?" The unconditional girl piped up. "Call me -"

"Elizabeth!" cried an authoritative voice from behind the pair, one that caused the lady clinging to Ciel's arms to immediately spring back and caused Ciel's brain to rattle all the more irksomely. The figure of a tall, imposing woman swamped Ciel's swimming vision, causing his mind to reel all the more vigorously. "How many times must I remind you? You are a lady of high status! It is unbefitting of you to behave in such an unlawful way."

"I am so sorry, Mother," squeaked Elizabeth in a small, defenceless tone, hiding herself most foolishly behind Ciel, as though his body would somehow deflect her mother's ridicule. Instead, it only coaxed more.

"You've gained weight, Earl," Aunt Francis scorned, her hands secured proudly upon her hips, her angular eyebrows almost parallel against her forehead.

Ciel spluttered, his tight breath gushing out of him in mere shock at such a petty flaw being pointed out so crudely. "P-pardon?"

Snarling, Aunt Francis turned on the only person that could be a reasonable explanation for this; the boy's incompetent butler. Advancing upon the abashed man, Lady Francis grappled a handful of Sebastian's long, voluminous fronds of ebony-black hair and yanked at it mercilessly, her features a refined slice of severeness. "This, I assume, is all your doing, Butler. What kind of servant would be so inexperienced to cause their master to grow overweight?! Inconceivable, I say!"

"Aunt Francis, please!" Ciel yelped, utter exasperation dripping from his raw tone, a pink tinge of embarrassment standing flush upon his blanched cheeks. He was feeling not at all in the mood to witness his butler suffer, more for the utter unruliness of his Aunt's yelling than actual concern for his butler's welfare. "Do calm done. The problem is being handled expertly enough. Now, please come and enjoy the breakfast that my servants have slaved so tirelessly over to prepare for you."

Aunt Francis scowled at the butler for a moment longer, as though she would reject the Earl's offer of peace. Yet eventually, she lessened in her attack upon the demon, curtly releasing the man's untidy fringe with a scoff and moved over to the dinning table with a new-found calm that was almost unnerving to watch. Ciel, feeling eased at the sight of quiet once more, joined her by the table, hurriedly sitting himself down as a sudden vertigo washed over him, fearing that his legs wouldn't bear his weight for much longer.

With Lizzy also being seated, breakfast was served - a delicately poached salmon with a vibrant mint salad. It looked exquisite, and Lizzy suggested so, with the vivacious colours of the salad and a perfect gloss on top of the salmon. However, to Ciel, it was an entirely different story. If all before this moment had been mere bait, than the food was pure poison.

At just the vision of the dish, Ciel's nausea struck its highest peak and he bolted up from his chair like a shot of lightning, excused himself most desperately, and then made hast from the room with as much dignity as he could possibly manifest. Passing through the doors into the adjacent corridor, Ciel didn't care for appearances any longer and sprinted to the nearest bathroom, where he promptly collapsed to knees before a toilet and began to heavily gag.

"Oh dear, my Lord," came a voice cooing from behind, the sound an incarnation of liquid velvet as it echoed lightly along the tiled walls of the bathroom, causing Ciel's disorientation to worsen. "What are we ever to do with you?"

"Just tell them -" Ciel moaned through a mouthful of bile. "Tell them that I have - an urgent - business call that completely slipped my mind - and won't b-be able to - join them for - a few hours..."

A cool, gloveless hand acquainted itself with the boy's sweaty forehead, causing the child to shudder a little from the pleasant chill. "Of course, my Lord," answered the butler in a voice that was so sympathetic in its smoothness and grace that it was soothing upon Ciel's sullied senses. The next words however, were that of mockery, mockery that would have caused Ciel to seethe if he had not been seething from illness already. "My, are you sure you are not pregnant, Master?"

Through Ciel's unceremonious retching, he voiced an indignant cry, and would have lashed his head around to face his imbecile of a demon if he hadn't been so worried about vomit flying. "Of-of course not! It is just impossible! I'm - male! And besides, I've done - nothing - of the sort - to cause myself to be - pregnant in the first place!"

"Yes, I suppose you're right," Sebastian reassured, feeling just the slightest bit apologetic for causing his master such concern. "And, by the way, if you were doing anything, I would know..."

An even brighter heat expanded within Ciel's cheeks at the thought of his butler possibly being able to know of such things. With a humiliated groan, he ordered, "Go. You're a nuisance. I don't want to see you."

"Yes, my Lord," uttered a humoured voice before the phantom retracted from the room, leaving Ciel alone with his unbidden thoughts and vile spew.

Could he really be pregnant? Yet he snuffed out the question before it could ensnare itself into his mind. As he said, it was impossible...


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys!**

 **I apologise for the massive meltdown just before. If you saw it, I don't know why it happened. Thank you tarynw for letting me know! I assure that that has never happened before.**

 **Anyway, please enjoy and review!**

 **HeartElyse**

 **XXX**

 _TO BE A MOTHER - CHAPTER FOUR_

Sunday's arrival was not appreciated. The dawn brought no changes to even be considered, nor admired. The boy still awoke in a frenzy of sickness, as blanched and frail as the bitter snow that painted the shrivelling grounds outside, with his face looming timidly over the basin of the toilet as his heaving ripped and shredded at the walls of his insides, warranting blood to spill for the first time. It spoiled the ivory porcelain with its lurid redness and only aided in intensifying the scene that was already gruesome.

With haste, Dr Marat was called upon again, to which he immediately obliged. He listened to the latest developments with the keenest of ears and promised to arrive within the hour. His words were true to his heart, for within half an hour, he was traipsing down the halls of the Phantomhive Estate with the Lord's butler tending to his side, most enthusiastic to assess the bedridden boy himself.

Invited into the Earl's chambers, the mellow doctor was enormously disappointed when he witnessed the decrepit child submerged underneath a dense array of cotton-sewn bedcovers, not at all improved, but possibly poorer, with perspiration lavishing his skin in a waxy shine, his intricate lips broken and bleeding, and the stench of sickness engulfing the air like a rabid plague. What only served to disorientate the doctor even further was how the boy's weight had not dissipated at all, but had expanded in the slightest of fashions, the bulge of his abdomen possibly more noticeable beneath the blanket than the doctor had remembered it before.

Dr Marat did not trouble himself with formal greetings - to which Ciel was greatly soothed, for he was feeling far too feeble to ponder on such things - and instantly began to enact in a manner that any practitioner should. He once again performed a general check up, reviewing the boy's health as he had done exactly a week before, still reaping no answer in reward for his efforts. He agreed upon taking a close inspection at the child's abdominal area, in hope that engraved within its marginally swollen depths, there may be clues to be found.

The doctor voiced his intrigue with the most charming of smiles, his eyes a mask of reassurance as he gazed down upon the fragile remains of the ailing little Earl. "I would like to take a look at your abdomen, if that is alright, Earl Phantomhive."

The boy merely dipped his head in submission, to which his butler also availed, partially unbutton the Earl's nightshirt so that Marat had legitimate access to all he desired to assess. Now with permission granted, the doctor cautiously lowered his stethoscope upon the child's stomach and focused intently on the sounds being produced from within, his curiosity raging at the thought of what he might hear. However, what he did discover himself hearing caused such immense surprise to course through him that he froze completely. For what seemed like an eternity, the doctor listened intently, mildly concerned that either his ears or his stethoscope were not functioning as they should have been. Yet, when he was assured that what he was hearing wasn't a phantom, he withdrew the stethoscope from the Young Lord's abdomen and reared himself to his feet, his mind wiring with confusion and possibility, enraptured in the prospect of something being so fathomless, yet utterly astonishing at the same time.

"Thank you for your time, my Lord," the kindly man endeared, grinning perhaps too knowingly than what was deemed appropriate. "It was most enlightening. Do you mind if I share a word with your butler before I depart?"

"It's fine," the boy wavered, his puffy eyes glazed by illness as he peeked up at the doctor, his stare silently willing the two to leave him be to his own sickly despair.

Butler and Doctor exited the room. However, in the instant the door closed behind them, Marat whirled around to face the faithful servant, sighing heavily, a hand rummaging through his sleet hair in abhorrent weariness.

"Do forgive me, good sir, for I fear I might be dropping a great burden upon your shoulders. However, there is no other explanation..."

 **XXX**

 **Be prepared for a bombshell! (Haha, just had to say it).**


	5. Chapter 5

_**To Be a Mother - Chapter Five**_

Sebastian returned, but to say his demeanour hadn't wavered would've been a complete misconception on Ciel's part. In spite of the sickness that warped his mind, Ciel could tell; in how the butler entered the room with immense caution; in how he strode over to the bed with such clear hesitance that it unnerved Ciel considerably; and in how he knelt down by his withered side as though to speak of death to a poor, naive child; with his lips downcast, and his eyes grave, that there was no question; something was grievously wrong.

There had never been an exact moment in which Ciel had reached his breaking point. He had been so ailed by illness that he hadn't truly noticed himself gradually cracking around the edges, crumbling piece by piece, concaving from the outside-in. Yet now, with his demon by his side, but with his bravado and mischief long since removed, Ciel was coming to the clarity of just how far he'd really fallen. It was the devil's forlorn appearance that had sparked so much terror within Ciel; had he been whole, that spark would not have existed in the first place.

Stirring, Ciel ascended from the blankets, his fragile frame shuddering with the endurance as he pressed his knees dearly into the mattress, stationing himself upwards into a pitiful seated position. Holding steady with his quavering fingers, he grappled fistfuls of the butler's obsidian tailcoat. Panting eagerly between thick gulps, as though his meagre swallowing might somehow be able to withstand the torrents of nausea that seemed destined to come pouring out of him, he strained out a voice that was so inadequate and sparse in its delivery that it was perceived as nothing more than a mere wheeze.

"S-Sebastian... What is it?... W-what's happening to - to...?"

Before Ciel could finish, the sickness roiled and he turned his head to the side, spluttering throatily, his pronounced abdomen clenching, flecks of blood splashing upon the immaculate sheets, spoiling them from taintless white to desecrating crimson. Insides bleeding remorselessly, the boy gasped, his lungs hacking for breath between his excruciated heaving. He feared he would not be able to tolerate much more of this. This illness was torture, punishment for daring to plummet willingly into the ranks of demons and fall from Grace to Hell without even an inkling of regret. And it was spreading everywhere, splaying out across his entire life, contaminating his days with vomit and fever. This could not go on for much longer. For if it did, than surely he would die.

When the bout of nausea finally passed and he could speak freely without the concern of being interrupted by his own gagging, Ciel spoke again. His tone was more earnest as he dropped his head upon Sebastian's broad shoulder, for it felt as though it may just roll off his neck at any moment.

"W-what's happening to me?... Sebastian, Tell me!... T-that's an order..."

"You are suffering from severe morning sickness, my Lord."

The answer was so blunt that for several grating moments, Ciel could not absorb it. He reeled backwards, his milky face peeling away from Sebastian's shoulder to gaze down upon the butler with the most mortified of eyes. He braced himself on his hunches, as though in preparation to flee at any given opportunity, and he actually might have if he hadn't felt so haggard. The demon reached out a hand, in worry that his master may fall or damage himself, but the child battered away the offered support with mild aggression, a clear warning to his immense disorientation.

"What?!"

Once more, the servant repeated himself, yet he used his words carefully this time, having no desire to wound up his Lord any further, in worry it may cause monstrous consequences.

"The doctor could not come up with any other reasonable conclusion, my Lord. I am sorry, but it is believed that you are pregnant. As a result, your illness is due to severe morning sickness. However, do not fret, Young Master. It shall begin to deplete in the next few weeks, and shall possibly end within the next four months. I can't really say; no pregnancy is ever entirely the same."

The boy was barely certain of when it started, but he found that he could no longer breathe. Air was rapidly being thrust down into his throat, but would never quite reach his lungs before it was spewed back out again. It melded his brain into blurry tatters, and combined with his sickness, only served to heighten his nausea. Acid and blood burst its way up his oesophagus and came gushing out once again, only adding more to the bodily paint that embellished his bed.

"My Lord!" Sebastian's unruffled voice yelped from amidst the haze. However, as steely arms made to fasten themselves around Ciel's tort little body, he viciously shoved them away, shrieking so rawly through his extreme retching that his cries sounded almost animalistic.

"Don't touch me! Don't touch me! DON'T TOUCH ME! Go! L-leave me be! That's an order, Sebastian! AN ORDER!"

The demon was affronted, torn between the dwindling wellbeing of his master and his obligation to the contract. However, he could not defy a direct order. So he complied, recoiling from the room with as much grace as he could possibly uphold in such a circumstance, leaving his Lord be to his own misery, vowing in the silence of his mind to return later. After all, there were still pressing matters around the Estate that needed tending to.

With the inconceivable butler finally gone, Ciel collapsed upon his bed in a rain of sobs, not caring in the least that he was lying in a puddle of his own blood and vomit. Tears leaked out from his glassy eyes, yet he did nothing to stop them.

How could this be? It was utterly impossible, wasn't it?... Perhaps not…

 **XXX**

 **Hey guys!**

 **So here it is! What you've all been waiting for! The truth…which you kind of all suspected anyway, but wasn't yet clarified. Exactly how this is the case, you'll find out in the next chapter, and will hopefully answer the question as to why I claimed this story to be controversial.**

 **Anyway, I just have a few more things I'd like to mention before I finish up.**

 **Firstly, I have a feeling a lot of people are going to enquire about Ciel crying in this chapter. Well, I personally feel that this is a huge burden to drop on a person's shoulders, especially when they were not expecting it at all (and usually shouldn't need to) and didn't even want it. Also, Ciel has been extremely sick for the past two weeks nonstop, which is a massive stress on both his body and his mind. And finally, with the fact that he is a teenager and pregnant, his hormone levels must be through the roof at the moment. So in my opinion, I think him crying is understandable. Also, whenever I came across fanfics like this, I was never satisfied with Ciel's reaction when he did find out that he was pregnant, especially when he didn't want to be. He would be shocked for a while, and then be pretty accepting of his situation. In my story, this was not how I wanted him to be.**

 **And secondly, I just wanted you to all know that while I have tried to research the topic of pregnancy and medical practices as much as possible, not all the details will be accurate. This may have been done on purpose for the benefit of the story, and may have also been done by mistake, as I am not a doctor. So don't take all this information to heart - although I didn't expect you to anyway. I am just making your aware, incase you weren't.**

 **Thank you so much for the amazing support I have been receiving so far. I'm so glad you all are enjoying the story, and I hope you shall continue to enjoy it! Please keep reviewing and faving! It really warms my heart!**

 **HeartElyse**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys!**

 **Here it is! What you've all been waiting for! The truth behind this entire phenomenon. Now, just keep in mind, this is based on my own opinion on demons and Sebastian, so feel free to disagree if you do, but this is how I see it.**

 **Anyway, I won't keep you waiting! Please enjoy and thank you so much for all the support so far!**

 **HeartElyse**

 **XXX**

 _ **To Be a Mother - Chapter Six**_

Several hours fluttered by. It was amongst the veil of night that Sebastian finally reverted back to the door of his master's bedroom. The silence engrossing its walls ailed the butler with a fickle bout of uncertainty. The Young Lord's incessant sobbing earned vast gratification from the demon, for it was a noise that he could comprehend. It was what he had been expecting from the afflicted boy; a burden such as that could not be dropped without some form of reaction. However, with the wailing stifled and the cries ceased, Sebastian found himself mildly disconcerted by the quiet that plagued their absence.

Sebastian tapped his knuckles upon the door, voicing his inquiry to the creature that resided within. He received no reply, which neither granted permission nor declined it. Perceiving this, Sebastian acted upon his own terms, entering the chamber with a wariness that one of his status should manifest. Peeking into the room, his superstitious eyes could decipher every detail flawlessly, even without a source of light.

The boy was spread across the mattress, his body boneless and limp atop of the sheets. His skin was soaked in the fluids of his unwellness; the waxy flesh dotted with grit and splattered with blood, and the flimsy fabric of his nightshirt absorbed it all like a sponge. However, he was not sleeping, for his feverish eyes were blinking heavily upon the butler's features, his right eye vivacious with the indigo symbol of their contract. Perhaps if he had of been more lively, he may have been pacing fanatically about the room in the hopes of steeling his nerves. However, even the child would be clever enough to know that that was not advisable in his condition, and besides; in his feeble state, he could hardly move an inch.

Sebastian - feeling dubious of his master's health - moved with reserved ease over to his Lord's side, where he grovelled by the boy's head, observing as it rolled tediously over to face him, his master's cheeks beaming with paleness, his chin flaking with stale saliva, his orbs glistening with restrained tears. The demon would've felt sorry for his Lord, if sympathy was one of the few emotions he could depict. The boy was truly a woeful sight.

Exhaling with grand exasperation, Sebastian gently orated his master, feeling most inadequate for not tending to the child's necessities sooner. "My Lord, I apologise most sincerely for leaving you in such poor condition. Now, if you will, allow me to thoroughly bathe you and change these bedsheets so you may be comfortable and possibly sleep."

"How?"

The question was so toneless that it lapsed into the air as nothing more than an insignificant dither of a noise. However, Sebastian was so fazed by it that visibly, he halted, his scarlet eyes regarding his master in an expression that could almost be described as wonder. "I beg your pardon, my Lord?"

The boy's gaze did not waver, despite of how intensely his voice shook. "How?... H-how did this happen?... I-I will not l-leave this bed until you explain, Sebastian... And that is my final word..."

Sebastian mused over his Lord's wishes for a moment, and, feeling no need to withhold such information, complied to his master's requests.

"It is due to the contract that you are in such a predicament, my Lord," Sebastian began, his tone gushing from his tongue as blatantly as ever. "It is something that I should have explained sooner. However, due to your young age and gender, I did not think it would be a concern."

"And what exactly is this 'something'?" Ciel inquired, his glossy eyes simmering with impatience.

"Just a moment, Master," Sebastian expressed kindly, feeling it would be no good to aggravate his Lord further with contempt or mockery. "If you will allow me to speak, I will explain."

The boy did not interrupt again, but simply dipped his head in a gesture for the butler to continue, for which he did most scrupulously.

"How a human reproduces differs greatly from how a demon reproduces. Demons can not experience love, nor can they understand passion. There is no pleasure to be found in sexual activities; that remains unique to mortal creatures, and mortal creatures alone. However, we do have an understanding of deals. We know undying fidelity to our Masters. We can comprehend the determination to preserve our Master's wellbeing until the very last moment, in which we devour their soul. And the more tightly bound a demon is to its prey, the more apparent these attributes are. So much so, that they may have the ability to give birth to new life."

"How so, exactly?" The boy murmured, sounding not at all stunned by the news. Perhaps that was what he had been expecting, or maybe he was just too drained to arouse a reaction. Sebastian could not say, nor was it really his place to judge.

"It often occurs in contracts that are strong and tightly bound, and is more common to occur in females, although it is not impossible for males to be affected as well. There is no physical touch needed to conceive the child; it is simply the height of one's devotion to their Master that pregnancy is initiated."

"Why do I have Severe Morning Sickness?"

Sebastian smirked at that.

"Do forgive me, my Lord, but your health has always been quite fragile, so there is no question in my mind as to why on earth you would be so ailed by Morning Sickness. Also, a demon pregnancy is far more demanding on one's body than a human pregnancy. And to be fair, Master, you are still a child and a rather small one at that."

A flare of irritation slashed across the boy's eyes, but that was all the explanation provoked, for he did not comment further on the topic, but averted to a more pressing one.

"And what is a demon pregnancy like?"

"It is but the same as any normal human pregnancy, perhaps a bit more testing, as I stated before, but the same nonetheless."

"How..." the child wheezed out a chilled breath, pausing for a moment, as though the possible answer disturbed him most gruellingly. "How will I give birth?"

Sebastian expressed his reassurance through the means of a slim, merciful grin, as he required no explanation to detect his Master's obvious grievances on the topic. "Do not fret, my Lord. Your body will gradually change over the corse of the following nine months to compensate for the pregnancy. I can't promise you it won't be painless, for no pregnancy can ever be truly painless, but your body should be able to handle the birthing process once the time is right."

The boy swallowed with difficulty, his features contorting in a fashion similar to that of when gravel seeps down one's windpipe. The prospect of his body suffering a 'change' of some sort appeared to not agree with the Earl, however, he did not speak of his vexation, and instead was satisfied with asking another question.

"And what about when the child is born? What will happen then?"

"You will not need to care for the child long, my Lord," Sebastian confirmed monotonously, earning a shallowly raised eyebrow from his master, yet nothing more. "By the end of three months, the child shall be the human age of fifteen and be ready to venture off into the depths of hell. It shall leave and you'll most likely never see it again. However, between this time, the child shall be like any other human child. It shall require sleep, sustenance, shelter, love, all those necessities that all children need. The child can become sick, and can be harmed, maimed and injured. It is the most vulnerable time for a demon, for it is not as immortal as one would like to be. It can die."

"But then what, Sebastian?" Ciel growled, his words scraping from his tongue like fraying wood against brittle sandpaper. His bloodshot eyes flashed and were suddenly ablaze, flaming spectacularly amidst the haze of inky night, one an enchanting violet coal burning against the white, the other an icy blue sun piercing a path through the darkness. However, glazing it all was a fragile film of panic-induced tears, brimming at the corners, distorting the image from that of consuming rage to that of harrowing resentment.

The boy seated himself upwards with enormous exertion, his entire frame convulsing with hazardous quakes and as he began to address his butler with the utmost surliness, Sebastian feared his master may just eclipse into another frenzy. "How do I explain this to my family? The servants? The Queen?! How am I supposed to work with a baby under my wing, huh? How am I supposed to stop this vile truth from getting out?!" His Lord had begun to shout now. "And what about our contract?! What about my revenge?! And what about the bloody doctor knowing?! What am I supposed to do about..."

The child's frantic exclamations waned away in the form of a deprived cough, jutting at his abdomen like an axe to the gut. He keeled forward, a suffocated cry gushing out from his lips as he clutched his stomach in both arms, his grip so strict upon it that it almost appeared he feared that letting go may cause it to fracture itself apart entirely. Alarmed, Sebastian lightly pressed the boy back downwards into the security of his bedsheets, eyeing the child with a mask of uncertainty.

"Please, my Lord, do not strain yourself. If it is your desire, than I shall take care of everything. There is no need for concern. Our contract has not changed. And as for the doctor, Dr Marat has been sworn to secrecy, and has even offered to assist in the process, if that is your wish."

The boy did not answer for a moment, but lay a pathetically shaking heap upon the expanse of his mattress, husky breaths hacking their way into his broken lungs, petrified eyes infatuated with the ceiling. Eventually, his Lord spoke, this time voicing a question that Sebastian had been most perplexed not to hear come from the boy at his very first word.

"Is there any way to abort the baby?"

"Not medically, I'm afraid. However…there are other means." Impassively, Sebastian erected a gloved hand from the shadows, displaying it for the boy's eyes to observe, and from the tips of the ivory fingers, ravishing black claws exploded, rupturing scandalous holes through the silken fabric. "Is that what you want, my Lord?"

Ciel admired the devil's talons for a moment, and yet you could not say that it was in admiration that he did so. He was in grave anguish - anguish over his own desires and what was truly noble. His breathing had grown painstakingly quiet, his body incurably still as he delved into his options and his heart's desperate longings - much to his distain. The word 'yes' was aflame upon his tongue, tingling at the very edge, so close to being announced that hesitation was excruciating. And yet, just as it was to be uttered, crimson eyes and locks of ruby red engulfed his mind and with an ache so great that he believed that his chest might burst, he realised that what he wished for most was something that he could never proceed to do, for surely _she_ would haunt him forever in turn. He granted himself a sigh, his enlarged eyes closing in defeat.

"No, it is not. I shall have this baby. Madam Red would surely be howling in her grave if I chose to throw it away…"

An internal laugh burst beneath Sebastian's skin. His master could never fail to amuse him, deciding that the gaping hole in his deceased Aunt's life could somehow be compensated in the birth of his own demon child. What obscenity! Even so, Sebastian tipped his head in acceptance, before graciously leaning forward and sweeping his defiled Lord into his easing arms. "Very well, my Lord. Now if you have no more questions, I shall run you a bath."


	7. Chapter 7

_**To Be a Mother - Chapter Seven**_

Pallid morning light flittered it's way through the shallow gaps between the curtains, signalling a new beginning to another chilling Winter's day. It turned the boy's plush cheeks from refined cream to pasty, garish white as he lay pleasantly slumped beneath the covers of the bed, slumbering tranquilly, utterly oblivious to the sun's pale stirring. Sebastian observed the child from a secure distance, poised among the shadows that cloaked the edges of the room, feeling almost apologetic for needing to wake the Earl so soon. Yet than again, being apologetic was merely a component of his character, an extension of his role as a prestigious butler. It was not a mirroring of his true - or rather fabricated - feelings.

Three days had passed since the unnameable events of Sunday, and to the demon's mild astonishment, his Master had been gradually improving. Although his nausea had not quite evanesced, and vomiting was still often a daily occurrence, his Lord had managed to surpass several meals without immediately resurfacing them and had gone so far as to exit his chambers and participate in his usual habits with the most agreeable of cautions. Sebastian had been wonderfully impressed by the boy's determination, growing more and more ravenous by the overwhelming stench of it, but did not mention it, for it would be most improper of a butler of his status to do so.

Exhaling contently, Sebastian glided over to the curtains with an ease only one such as he could possibly embody, and - grasping the satiny fabric between his implacable fingers - he unsheathed them, allowing the full dazzlement of the sun to come spilling in. His critical gaze flicked over his broad shoulder, and he was not mystified in the least to witness his little master flinch in response to the lurid light, his eyes opening in the form of a glaring squint.

"It is time to wake up, my Lord," Sebastian greeted, a smirk adorning his lithe lips.

The boy simply replied with a detesting moan, dragging himself upwards from his blankets with the finesse of the crippled elderly. Blindly, the child pawed the air for his tea, his thick-lidded eyes blinking fruitlessly as he tried exasperatedly to arouse their basic functions.

"Where's my tea, Sebastian?" His master croaked waspishly, as impatient and unruly as ever.

"Can you stomach it this morning, Young Master?" Sebastian inquired, a hint of mischief in his tone as he moved himself swiftly over to the silver trolley that he had left waiting idly by the door and began to steer it to his Lord's bedside.

Prodding his palms bitterly into his inefficient eyes, Ciel graced the butler with a gingerly reply. "For the moment, yes. However, I wouldn't advise you making preparations for breakfast just yet."

"Very well," Sebastian complied with a courteous teeter of his head, and brandished an intricately embellished teacup for his master to take, in which the boy did with the utmost eagerness. "Today's tea is a Ceylon blend. Does this satisfy you, my Lord?"

"Yes, its fine," confirmed his master heedlessly, sipping at the said tea indulgently.

"I'm glad it pleases you."

And without further ado, the protocol of the morning commenced; his Lord drinking his tea. The butler offering an ironed copy of _The London Times,_ to which his Lord tactfully accepted. The butler dressing his Lord - today's attire a pleated, ash-coloured suit with matching shorts and glossy black heeled boots that came to just below the knee. And finally, the butler grooming his Lord to pure perfection - not a ribbon askew, not a lace loose, not a hair out of place.

However, the demon's scrupulous efforts were all but proven a waste, as in mere moments after he had completed his masterpiece of frills and etiquette, the boy's cheeks blanched to porcelain, and cupping a hand savagely over his puckered lips, the Earl dashed to the adjoined bathroom and thoroughly emptied his stomach in the toilet that resided within.

The ordeal did not press on for long, for in a matter of moments, the boy spluttered to an agonised halt, his head hovering unsteadily over the basin, his shoulders heaving with ragged ferocity, his breaths pouring into his laboured lungs in violent waves.

After a terse pause, the child recoiled from the basin with a shudder, hefting himself against the adjacent wall with a taxed sigh. Sebastian dubiously treaded over to his Lord's side and knelt down with such immense elegance that even an angel would glower in contempt. Taking in his master's perspirated face, sweat-slicked hair and grime flecked cheeks, Sebastian was forced to suppress a huff of aggrieved annoyance, feeling it most rude to release such a noise before his master. Conjuring a handkerchief, Sebastian carefully grasped his Lord's dribble-coated chin between his spidery fingers and began to dab away the dots of vomit and trickles of sweat that cloyed his master's immaculately smooth, baby-soft skin, until eventually, the boy, despite his fatigued appearance, looked as prim and pristine as he had done only seconds before.

"I think...I can stomach breakfast now," the child announced, with a shaky pant rumpling his words. He reared himself with timid uncertainty from the tiled floor, his legs wobbling slightly as though they had abruptly liquified. Finding his gravity, the boy toed his way out of the room, calling to his butler who had been neglected in his wake. "Bring it to my study!"

Standing, the butler goaded a hand lightly over his heart and stooped low. "Yes, my Lord."

XXX

Ciel felt himself completely taken in by the colossal stacks of paperwork that overwhelmed his desk like a dense, roiling ocean of parchment, warranting to sicken him more than his condition could ever have hoped. He released a flexed whine, lamenting his mournfulness in a single, woeful breath. Oh, if only this illness hadn't vexed him so savagely!

Illness was what he still freely chose to name it, for in his conscience, it had not ascended to anything further. He had not given merit to the longstanding effects of his illness, nor had he bestowed thought into any of the consequences that might arise because of it. He still did not have the conviction to believe it anymore than an illness, and he might not ever - well, at least until the child arrived and the very truth of his state was practically screaming him in the face.

Digging his elbows into the correlating mahogany of the desk and pressing his fatigued eyes into his upturned palms, the boy once again huffed, feeling most aggrieved by his predicament. His skull was throbbing as though it too had its own radiating heartbeat, each pulse emitting surges of agony upon the host. His stomach was a riling concoction of stabbing twists and aching knots, not at all a threat of nausea, but still intolerable all the same. And to add topping to a particularly ghastly day, the rivers of senseless documents that lay strewn out before him only served as a reminder of all the work he was surely going to miss as the next gruesome months traipsed by.

A tentative knock on the study door was what gave relief to Ciel's despairing thoughts. "Enter," the boy exclaimed in an earnestly regal tone, tossing up his head from his hands - although rightfully regretting doing so afterwards, for crass pain rippled along his skull in result - and poised himself so rigidly in his chair that his stomach gave a mild lurch, much to his anguish.

Who strode into the room was none other than his butler, as stately and imposing as ever, skilfully balancing a vast silver tray, overbeared by wax-sealed letters on the expansive palm of his right gloved hand. At the sight, Ciel's mood pitched further downwards into the very depths of misery, and a groan would have protruded from his lips if only he hadn't forbidden it the right to do so. He was not at all in a reasonable state to be bothered by such things, and neither did he have the time. The very prospect of him wasting such treasured hours on trifling through such pointless mail was enough to almost drive him mad with frustration.

The demon came to a courtly stop by the front of his Lord's disheveled desk and arched his mouth slightly as he prepared to address the boy, clearly about to introduce the obvious mail to the Earl. However, Ciel took the liberty of interrupting the butler, not at all possessing the patience to deal with such formalities.

"Is their anything of importance," he voiced bitterly, an angular scowl emblazoned upon his pale face.

Sebastian faltered for a moment, yet reestablished composure in a matter of seconds, suffering his Lord's exasperation with the finest of eases. He feathered out a small slip of parchment from the mountainous pile, and brandished it to his master without even the most insignificant of wavers. "Perhaps this one would be of interest to you, my Lord," the demon pondered snidely. "I believe the contents of this letter have something to do with what the Marchioness Midford and Lady Elizabeth came to speak with you about when you were interrupted by that untimely 'business call'."

Glowering at his butler with spectacular resentment, Ciel snatched the letter from Sebastian's spindly fingertips and observed the underside of it with an unsettled curiosity. The parchment was sewn together by a wax emblem of a flaxen hue - a definite indication to the Haywood Family, an aristocratic bloodline known nationally for their extravagant balls and magnificent parties. All there gatherings were impetuous, and were the envy of all that were given permission to attend, but despite this, all that were invited did go, for no person who was that privileged to be acknowledged by the Haywood family would ever dare risk causing such abomination to their social status by not going. Ciel was most assured that he did not even need to open the letter to know what was inside.

However, he still did so, for he was still clinging to some miracle that he would be proven wrong. And yet he was not.

The contents of the letter entailed a vibrant proposal of welcome to the Earl Phantomhive from the Haywood Estate, offering excitable invitation to the New Year's Eve Ball that would be occurring on the 31st of December 1889 - exactly four days away - an invitation with no room for refusal.

Granting himself the justification to voice a rather insensible whine, the boy flopped backwards in his seat, placing a hand on his marginally protruded abdomen in a fashion that could be described as ironic - which caused the boy to grimace in distaste for his actions.

The butler observed this and asked with the sincerest of calms, "Shall I inform Earl Haywood that you are unwell and will not be able to attend?"

Pressing his head heavily into the leather backrest of the chair, Ciel closed his eyes, feeling warped in a bout of weariness. However, after a moment of contemplation, Ciel gently shook his head.

"No. It is my duty to attend. I must not allow some pathetic illness to bother me. And besides, if Elizabeth came all this way just to speak with me about it, than my attendance must be important to her."

With his eye faintly shut, Ciel did not glimpse the brilliant smirk that slashed across his butler's lips. How very naive his poor little Lord posed himself to be. "Very well, of course, my Lord."

 **XXX**

 **And that concludes the chapter! Thank you all for reading! Please let me know what you think of the story so far!**

 **HeartElyse**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys!**

 **Sorry for the delay! I've just been really busy and super unmotivated to write lately. I've been feeling as though I've been writing more for other people instead of myself, which has been really frustrating and hard. But anyway, I still want to try and finish this story. So here is an extra long chapter for you!**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

 **HeartElyse**

 **XXX**

 _ **To be a Mother - Chapter Eight**_

"Is this outfit to your liking, my Lord?"

The 31st arrived with no respectable patience, nor kindness. It rather lunged out from the wallows of misery that it belonged to, incredibly ill-natured and intolerable as it snarled and spat with its vulgarness, catching Ciel entirely off footing.

He was now stationed before his own reflection, his singular gaze observing his appearance in the mirror with the most languid of expressions. Ciel could not deny the utter extravagance of his attire - perhaps a little to extravagant, if you wished for his personal convictions on the matter.

He was wreathed in an impressionable azure blazer, with a winged collar and white frills that erupted from navy cuffs. A matching waistcoat resided beneath, which had indulgent silver buttons adorning the front. They were paired with a set of dress trousers and obsidian boots, with heels that warped the reality of his insignificant height, and with vivid blue ribbons that served to draw attention.

But what made this outfit rightfully extraordinary was not any of these components at all, but rather the short, navy train formed of silk and lace that hung bunched at his hips and flounced behind his legs, to trail elegantly at his heels. Although a counterpart to the piece, it was not at all required or necessary. Yet it played as a distraction from other suspicions that one might grasp through eager attention, for while his stomach was only swollen by marginal degrees, someone discovering the truth was always a possibility.

"It shall do, the Earl confirmed in a tone of disinterest, turning from the mirror with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It is likely that Her Majesty will be in attendance at this evening's Ball. It is only fitting to appear in my best attire."

Sebastian, who had been applying the final touches to Ciel's outfit, furled his hand over his breast and bowed, stating with precise fondness, "I am glad it pleases you, my Lord."

Feeling tested by the formality and feeling all the more dread at the thought of what was in store for him in the evening, Ciel stormed to the door, grounding out over his shoulder, "Prepare a carriage."

"Certainly, Master."

Ciel sauntered down the corridors of his mansion with the most portly of treads, his thoughts consumed by silent prayers, prayers which entailed the night being considerably dull and uneventful, just as any other. He had managed to master the day so far without the implacable tug of nausea interrupting him, and so he desired most eagerly for it to remain that way. Making a disgrace of himself during the party was not an option; he could assure you that doing so would be far more disastrous than not agreeing to attend at all.

Gliding down the steps into the entrance hall, Sebastian stood awaiting for his arrival by the front door, holding them courteously open for his Lord to exit with ease. Upon leaving the walls of the estate, Ciel could not will himself to be impressed at the sight of the carriage already primed and prepared for their venture into London, its willow exterior shimmering hazel in the last fronds of day. Ciel hurried to it, wishing to escape the brunt of the Winter's chill as efficiently as possible and was inclined to feel relief at the sight of his dedicated footman, Snake standing to attention with the door of the carriage held wide in his grasp, with one of his companions - Emily, Ciel supposed - positioned with equal conviction on his shoulder. Entering the carriage, Ciel sat himself down by the window - scowling with the discomfort of his train - and as Snake followed suit and Sebastian excused himself to the perch of the carriage - the chosen driver for the evening's endeavours - the coach set sail into the young night, the song of clunking hooves and churning wheels seeping into the darkness.

The first half-hour of was undisturbed and peaceful, much to Ciel's taste. Yet as the hour reached its climax and the Haywood Estate grew ever closer, Ciel felt something within him turn foul. The blood in his cheeks evaded him and he blanched, his only seeing eye bursting a little in pure mortification. He would have groaned most strenuously if he hadn't of wanted to spare Snake of the realisation that something was quite off, even in spite of the fact that the said footman had not made a single utterance since the trip had begun. Ciel's stomach produced another unnerving flip and the boy flinched. It was nausea, he was certain of that. But as of how to retain it, he had not even the tiniest of ideas.

When the carriage drew to a halt upon the drive of the Haywood Mansion, Ciel took his leave from its secure interiors without speaking a word of his ailments to his butler, for he had decided that acknowledging his condition aloud would only serve to make it all the more apparent, which was not at all what he wanted. After instructing Snake to keep watch over the carriage, Sebastian came to bite faithfully at his master's heels as Ciel gradually made the walk to the gaping front doors of the Haywood Estate with as much integrity as he could possibly uphold in the riotous state he was enduring. The garish light spilling out from the manor's entrance was enough to evoke a wince from Ciel, a brewing migraine only adding to his many concerns.

Passing into the drawing room, Ciel was most dissatisfied to discover himself utterly flustered from his measly wander to the building, with prickles of perspiration beginning to slick across his smooth forehead, and he begged that no one - not even his butler - would notice. With his eye soundlessly conversing with the room, he was not at all surprised by what he witnessed; a large crowd splayed about the marble-induced chamber, all of whom clad in frocks of finery and excessive brilliance, chattering away with those of familiar status and importance, exercising great patience for the more racy events that were to come on this ungodly evening. Ciel was sure that he would've sneered at them for their grand snobbery if he was not also classified as one of them.

Amidst the fanciful haze of people, Ciel managed to take in the slightest glimpses of the mathematically ethical, Earl Garret Haywood, with his mentally distant wife, Lady Scarlet clinging almost flirtatiously to his arm. A man of business, Lord Haywood was an owner of a successful accounting agency and held proud ties with the Royal Family. However, the wife that had been designed for him was rather a disappointment to his genius, for she was extremely dim and on the most part, did not appear very coherent at all. Yet even so, this lack of intelligence did not diminish her beauty in the least, much to the jealousy of all the women who scorned her.

Coming to the conclusion that it would be most rude of him not to greet them and express his appreciation for their invite - although his appreciation was barely skin deep - Ciel delved into the crowd, not daring a glance at his butler for fear that the demon would catch on to his softly escalating predicament, despite how the very essence of the people surrounding him only assisted in causing him to feel more sickly. Upon nearing the two nobles that deserved his respects, Ciel faltered only for a moment as he realised who the couple were so energetically in conversation with.

By there side stood Queen Victoria herself, humble and gracious in her elderly years, in spite of how her persona as the highest of Royalty hinted otherwise. Flanking her were the imposing figures of Charles Phipps and Charles Grey - the Double Charleses, as they had been condemned - stationed like two pompous ivory wolfhounds by Her Majesty's heel. The image gave Ciel an internal snigger.

Reaching the small party, Ciel awaited patiently for their regards, not agreeing it at all courteous to disrupt them, as Haywood confessed his family's latest achievements to Her Majesty, who received them with a thrilled vanity that only one such as she could possibly uphold. After several moments of being idle, Haywood's hazel eyes appeared to snag upon Ciel and the man turned slightly, his features brightening in awe as he dipped his head in greeting.

"Ah, Earl Phantomhive!" Haywood welcomed, a charismatic aura wafting from his moderate, and yet compelling tones. "What a pleasure it is to see you again!"

"And you, Earl Haywood," Ciel replied with his own polite charms, even though he did not care for such things.

The Queen perked at this, shifting to face Ciel also, weathered eyes appearing to glimmer at the mere sight of him. "Oh, my dear boy! It has been so long since I've seen you! How has my little puppy been?"

That evoked a hacking splutter from Ciel, his luridly pale cheeks suddenly blossoming into vivid hues of heated embarrassment. Behind Her Majesty, he was most irked to witness Earl Grey chortling, with a hand cupped just barely over his lips in restraint, while Phipps simply gave a smile in answer to the Queens humour, his amusement reaching no further than his angular eyes. Earl Haywood just eyed the Royal Lady in admiration for her boldness, while his wife simply appeared perturbed, inquiring in the most airy of octaves, "Puppy? But he's a boy, isn't he?"

Oh, and Ciel could assure you, he did not even need to glimpse his butler to know that the damn demon was smirking.

"Please, Your Majesty," Ciel gasped, his shoulders bristling by the smallest of measures. "It is not proper of you to address me in such a manner."

"Oh yes, do forgive me dear," the Queen claimed most regretfully, despite how her eyes spoke more deviously of her intentions. "I can't help seeing you without remembering the adorable little boy you used to be! Ah, how much you've grown!"

"Yes, even so," Ciel interjected, feeling it wise to detour from this path of discussion. Out of inclination and respect, Ciel bowed before the eyes of the Queen, his head stooping low in submission to her ruling. "It is an honour, Majesty."

Ciel was startled by the sensation of a small, crisp hand falling upon his silken mop of slate hair, and he reared up his eye, his mystified gaze levelling with that of his Ladyship, who's perseverant features had melted away into that of a prideful glow. "As it is to you, Earl Phantomhive."

Abruptly, the Queen halted for a moment, her frame pressing nearer to him as a frown doused her lips, turning the corners downwards as she observed Ciel with all the seriousness she could conjure into her thin, calculative eyes. "My! You feel quite warm, Earl! Are you well?"

"Yes!" Ciel shrilled, perhaps a little to eagerly and perhaps a little to highly as he retracted back from Her Majesty's grasp with a slight quake of fret. "O-of course, Majesty! Do not concern yourself at all! The hall is just a bit warm for me, I believe!" With all the grace he could manage in his frantic - and rather poorly - state of affairs, he turned briskly on his unbalanced heels to infatuate his anxious gaze upon Earl Haywood. "Thank you most kindly for the invitation, Earl Haywood. It is an honour to attend such a glorious party to celebrate the end of yet another year."

With that, Ciel fled as swiftly as his nauseous gut would allow, not uttering another sound, not even to his butler, positively in fits at the thought of the unsightly demon catching on to his rapidly growing sickness.

All he needed to do was last for a few more hours and then he could leave promptly without further comment or suspicion.

However, his hopes of remaining stable for the next few hours quickly simpered at the sight of the Lady Elizabeth and Prince Soma rushing forwards to greet them, with Soma's faithful butler, Agni following monotonously and the Midford Family standing quite frank in Elizabeth's dust, looking baffled.

"CIEL!"

They somehow managed to sync in unison as the two overly excited teens threw themselves upon Ciel, hugging him so profusely that it took all the strength within his relatively frail stomach to prevent himself from retching all over the dazzling marble floor.

"Oh, its so good to see you, my friend!" Soma cheered, his smile so spirited that it appeared to beam even more exuberantly than the golden candlelight spritzing itself about the hall.

"I'm so glad you came!" chattered Lizzy, her lips so outstretched, they could've swallowed Ciel with their jolliness.

Ciel did not dare speak, feeling it too dangerous to do so with bile pressing so unlawfully upon his oesophagus that talking might have sent it spurting free. He was most appreciative to Sebastian when, after a satisfying moment of squirming and suffering, he most modestly plied the two off of Ciel, addressing them with all the humbleness that a butler such as himself should strive to sustain.

"Not that my Lord is not grateful for your excitement, my dear Prince and Lady, but my Lord has been rather dizzy today. He accidentally fell out of bed this morning and knocked his head upon the bedside table. It was rather dreadful, if I do say so myself."

Despite Ciel's previous gratitude towards the demon, if he hadn't of been feeling so unwell, he might've shot daggers at him now. Although it was a reasonable cover story, it did not flatter his figure in the least, but rather degraded it, and that was unheard of, especially in front of one's fiancée.

Immediately, Lizzy launched her hands upon his and drew him close, her enchanting emerald eyes growing dull with concern as they riveted over his figure. "Oh my goodness, that's terrible! Are you alright, Ciel? You didn't hurt yourself too badly, I hope!"

Straining a smile, although it blossomed into more of a grimace upon his taut lips, Ciel squeezed her fingers gently beneath his palms, silently pleading that it would be interpreted as reassurance, in spite of how he only proceeded in doing so in reaction to the biting cramp that suddenly convulsed painfully within his abdomen. "Do not concern yourself, Elizabeth. It was merely a slight bump, nothing more. I am completely alright."

As he had wished, Elizabeth instantly relapsed into her flamboyant self, her eyes pooling with light once more as an orchestra of violins started to hum in the background, signalling the beginning of the night's festivities with the first exquisite dance. "That's lovely to hear, Ciel! If you are feeling well enough than, may we please dance? Oh, pretty please, Ciel! It would be so much fun!"

Ciel was not feeling well enough in the least. To be precise, the very prospect of dancing made his riotous stomach curdle most unbearably. However, out of formality, he knew it would be off the upmost rudeness to refuse a Lady's request, especially when it so happened to be the request of Lady Elizabeth, who was so enthralled by happiness at the thought of dancing with him that it would be utterly inconceivable to turn her down.

Entwining his fingers with hers, Ciel placed all his determination in raising an endearing grin upon his cringing features as he accepted her desires, willing the tears of anguish to remain very much beneath his eyelids as he replied, "Of course, Lizzy. It would be my pleasure."

Releasing an almost incoherent squeal of delight, Elizabeth hastily took the offered arm that Ciel had extended towards her, hooking her own around it before frisking away into the centre of the hall where the dancing had commenced, Ciel stumbling helplessly within her grasp, Soma and her family left completely bewildered in the wake of her sudden flight.

Without even a moment to blink, Elizabeth had positioned his hands upon her - with one hand engrossed with her own and the other becoming incredibly familiar with the dainty curve of her hip - and without further ado, they delved into an extremely racy foxtrot. Elizabeth took it upon herself to lead Ciel about the dance floor, twirling and spinning so much that the entire chamber became smothered in a slosh of bedazzling hues and shimmering glows. One two three. One two three. One two three. Onetwothree. Onetwothree. Onetwo... The steps jumbled together within Ciel's frazzled perception and all he could do was cling to Lizzy for dear life, so consumed by disorientation and sickness that he could barely decipher the explicit details of his fiancée's dashing features. He could only hope to the very darkest caverns of his heart that he wasn't making a complete and utter fool of himself.

However, the foolishness of his appearance abruptly shifted to the least of his immediate concerns, for as Elizabeth dared to spin him again, his stomach gave the most ungodly of lurches yet, and with his cheeks suddenly overtaken by blotches of green, his limbs froze like ice, his entire frame halting in the very centre of the ballroom. And no amount of tugging on Elizabeth's part could unglue him from the place he'd rooted himself.

"Ciel, what's the -?"

"Lizzy, please let me go."

"But -"

"Please, Lizzy! B-before...b-before I..."

Collapsing onto his knees, Ciel cupped his quaking palms over his mouth, his bloodshot irises bulging with terror as he tried desperately to hold in the monstrosity yearning to come spewing out of him. Yet his attempts were utterly useless, for with one final, harrowing gurgle, he felt all control slip away...


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey guys!**

 **I didn't really re-read this chapter, but I think it's mostly fine!**

 **I think people have been losing interest in this story. I haven't been getting many reviews, and although I don't write for that, it always helps to keep me going and keep me motivated. So please, if you have the time, review. It's always highly appreciated!**

 **Thank you! I hope you enjoy!**

 **HeartElyse**

 **XXX**

 _ **To be a Mother - Chapter Nine**_

Ciel hurled, watery bile frothing up from his gut and puddling on the gleaming ivory floor. His hands became cloyed with the rotten muck as they remained ever over his lips, a feeble barrier to the defiling waste that gushed out of him. Agony stabbed his stomach with each heave that hacked relentlessly at his abdomen. His throat seethed with each spluttering cough that ailed him. It was so terribly painful that even tears managed to squeeze out from his eyes, bleeding over his cheeks in streams of clear liquid. He tried to stop, but he was unable to; his body was reacting on its own, striving aimlessly to purge itself of the nausea that was reeking disaster upon his bowels, turning his very organs to cinders.

Ciel was unable to consciously recollect when it ended, for it hadn't taken long for his entire concept of time to completely spiral into disarray. Yet eventually, his retching ceased in a frenzy of strangulated gasps, his frame a mess of gruelling shudders. He sat hunched over himself, his arms coiled around his entire face to conceal his blatantly shameful appearance from the prying eyes of the elite persons taking residence around him - once his acquaintances and yet now his scorners. He could feel webs of vomit dribbling down from the tips of his fingers onto the disheveled wisps of his hair, only assisting in accelerating the monumental humiliation he was experiencing. Tears soundlessly weeped forth, but he did not grant himself the freedom to quell them, nor could he even master any kind of order over them, as though a faucet had been switched on within his eyes and he could not find the handle necessary to turn it off.

An induced silence had corrupted the entire hall, disturbed by only Elizabeth's frantic keens, demanding to know if he was well, in defiance of it being so garishly obvious, and Sebastian's monotonous anxiety, calling out to him amidst the giant well of distress that was rapidly encroaching upon him, unable to reach far enough to drag him safely back into ease. How could anybody possibly save him now? Not even his demon could erase what those searing eyes had already envisioned and were still envisioning even within this very moment. His mask had always been unflappable - a masquerade lined by flawless gold and trimmed with untarnishable silver. Externally, it was nothing further than his true face, his face of splendid charm and perfect porcelain. Yet internally, it was only a bottomless fog, a buffer against his most pure reality. And now that the fog had lifted, it was to find his mask shattered into a million tiny pieces, all of which he could glimpse upon the floor, shimmering mournfully amidst the din, congealing awfully with the splashes of vomit still coating the marble. Utterly worthless. Pointless. Useless.

The shame. The embarrassment. It was nothing short of torment. It caused the erratic emotions within his raging heart to rupture further, making his eyes stream all the more profusely. In this moment, his heart felt too large for his body and it was shredding him apart at the seams, pouring out for all to see.

And what made the situation all the more intolerable was that slowly, whispers began to slither out from waspish tongues, whispers that only conceived the intention of causing mortal injury, injury that would brand marks too scathing to heal.

 _"Oh my, did the Young Earl have too much to drink?"_

 _"I bet he could hardly stomach a drop of the champagne. This is merely proof!"_

 _"Really, how childish! If he was feeling ill, he should've excused himself."_

 _"And the smell, it's ghastly! Who is he expecting to clean up that mess? I wouldn't let even my most unruly of servants clean that up!"_

 _"I'm certainly turned off dinner now."_

 _IT'S NOT LIKE I CAN HELP IT!_ Ciel had the unbecoming urge to shriek, and he might of, if he wasn't so determined to keep the wracking sobs imprisoned deep within himself. _I'M -!_ And yet he sullied the thought before it even had the opportunity to unhinge itself from his mind's disquieted lips, not at all prepared to face such musings in such an appalling time as it was. He desired more than ever for Sebastian to simply take him away, to return him home where he would certainly stir to find this to be nothing but a sadistic joke his mind was playing on him. The demon required no kind of verbal cues for his pleas to be answered, for it was a mere matter of moments before long, sinewy arms furled their way promptly around his petite, shivering frame, carefully dragging him upwards from his poorly position upon the floor and gathering him into a broad chest of secrecy and assurance, to which he obscured himself, planting his face against it, his tears soaking away into the dark fabric that engulfed it. It did not matter though; no amount of fabric could've hindered the tears from flooding out, regardless of how hastily they drained into the woollen fibres. It was pitiful really.

The world teetered hazardously around Ciel as Sebastian spun him about upon his heels and strode briskly forward, the ebony of the butler's double-breasted coat frantically sloshing with each measured step, the vile rumours concerning his very own misfortune bleeding further outwards with every precise tread. Other voices, possessing further prominence over the others, melded in with the unsavoury buzz, the kindly tones of Elizabeth, Aunt Francis, Soma and Agni rattling faintly against his skull, all of whom feeling obliged to some form of explanation.

"Is Ciel ok?" was Lizzy's most dearly question, the only question that had managed to transcend from her exuberant lips since the whole predicament had occurred.

"Does he have another fever?!" Soma piped in with a tone so excitable with worry that had Ciel been feeling slightly less horrid, he may have shot him clean with the revolver nuzzled beneath the spilling material of his train.

"He's my nephew! I have every right to know what's wrong with him!" Francis spoke with such indignation, it was almost as though she had been immensely affronted by the lack of information being presented to her. Oh, if only she knew...

"Do you need some assistance, Sebastian?" At least Agni was courteous enough to address the air in such a tone that it could've been compared to raw honey, soothing to the colossal pulsing and queasiness of Ciel's stomach and brain.

"Please, I ask you to quieten down for the sake of my Master," interjected Sebastian's stately reply, as delicate as silk upon Ciel's ears. "If you must know, my Lord has been rather unwell recently. I thought he had recovered, but clearly I have been proven wrong this evening."

"Oh, that is unfortunate," an aged voice husked in, and Ciel withered further against Sebastian's chest, realising that the voice was owned by none other than the Queen herself. The prospect of her even witnessing what carnage he'd expelled upon the floors of the hall inflicted such anguish upon him that he did not even believe he would ever have the strength to level with her gaze again. "Do tell my dear boy that I wish eagerly for his speedy recovery, won't you, Butler?"

"I'll be sure to inform him, Ma'am. I shall return in but a moment to clean up the rather -"

"Oh, please, don't bother," ascended the words of Earl Haywood, his air of formality and sophistication not evading him for the slightest of seconds, but flowing from his voice in torrents. "A servant of mine is already working on that. Go home and look after your master, good sir! He requires you more than my floors do!"

Tremors rolled ruthlessly down Ciel's spine at the sensation of the demon's lustrous strands of obsidian hair brushing lightly upon the shell of his ear, the butler's angular chin falling just barely upon his head as Sebastian dipped forward the slightest amounts, a compliment to the nobleman's unflappable hospitality. "Very well, sir. On behalf of my Lord, I thank you for a pleasant evening."

With this, Sebastian made no action to speak further, but fled the mansion with all the swiftness that his human appearance could possibly oblige, Elizabeth's cries fluttering unacknowledged in his wake. Immediately upon exiting the mansion, the Winter's chill served nothing but to accentuate Ciel's grand discontentment further as it broke itself upon his clammy skin, chasing the ill heat from his bones with nothing more than a sorrowful, icy howl. A spasm went so far as to elope down his body due to the proclaimed discomfort, peaking the attention of Sebastian, who assisted by clutching him tighter within his protective arms, his frigid breath growing warm upon Ciel's neck as he murmured, "Hold on for just a moment longer, my Lord. We have almost arrived at the carriage."

Despite instructing Snake to conduct the carriage at the front, Sebastian did not dither in the least as he goaded Ciel charitably into the pleasant confines of the carriage before heedfully placing him down upon one of the leather seats and wrapping his knuckles in quick concession upon the roof, signalling for them to be off. With nothing at all to even mention to his butler, Ciel squirmed himself into the crook between the seat and the window, and sobbed most foolishly into his spoiled hands, tears and vomit muddling together to create a paste of running grit upon his bloodless cheeks, the mock darkness of his fingers swirling and diving within his cruel wooziness.

"Hush, my Lord," eased Sebastian, his velvety coos dancing moderately upon Ciel senses. "There is no need to cry."

"Don't tell me what to do!" Ciel snarled lividly through his hands, his throat taut with savage emotion. "Y-you have no right!… N-no right a-at all…"

"It must be hormones encouraging this folly. That is to be expected," Sebastian comforted, and Ciel felt the silken texture of a handkerchief rub consoling upon his spittle-covered chin. "Do not concern yourself, Master. Once we get home, I shall prepare a nice, warm bath for you, and if you're feeling well enough, perhaps a cup of warm milk as well."


	10. Chapter 10

_**To Be a Mother - Chapter Ten**_

The night evanesced far too earlier for Ciel's liking. It was only in slumber that he could wish farewell to the tumult of the evening's morbid endeavours. But upon the wings of dawn, he was most unceremoniously introduced to them once again, and in a moan of exasperation, Ciel shielded his eyes from the bloodless glow of the Winter's sun, too beyond grief to face its honest beams today.

"Come now, my Lord," spoke Sebastian's amiable voice from a distance away, possibly from the unsheathed curtains, an unwarranted amusement trickling playfully into his velvety tones. "There is much to be down today. Lessons. Meetings. Engagements. All kinds of fanciful things that my master must attend to."

"Cancel my schedule," Ciel strained out from beneath his fingers, the night's tears leaving an imprint of pain within his skull that hadn't quite left him as of yet.

"But my Lord -" cried the butler's voice again, this time nearer, a superficial fret buffeting from his words.

"That was an order, Sebastian."

The brittle finality of his tone served to slaughter the demon's retaliations in an instant, and with nothing more to be said on the matter, the butler simply replied, "Yes, my Lord. Although, I must insist that you return to your duties tomorrow. Abandoning them for too long can be portrayed as a sign of weakness on your part."

"Yes, I am aware of that," snapped Ciel with a cold civility, daring to peek his rather humbled eyes out from the measly reprieve of his palms. Upon doing so, he was relieved to witness Sebastian pouring his usual morning tea - Darjeeling Tea from the earthy scent of it.

"Can you stomach tea this morning, Master?" came Sebastian's routine question, as neutral as it always was.

"I believe so," Ciel replied with little uncertainty, finally producing the courage to remove his hands from his eyes and furl them swiftly upon his lap. "As usual, wait on breakfast. We shall see how the tea goes first."

"Very well, my Lord." And with no further room for interruptions, Sebastian handed Ciel his tea and the habits of the morning once again commenced.

However, perhaps several moments later, as Ciel made to sip the last drop of his tea and unravel himself from his bedsheets, a disturbance erupted from somewhere not at all very far beneath the room and both he and Sebastian lashed round to face the door, the strongest curiosity ailing them both.

"What was that?" Ciel inquired, as though the air might hold the answer.

"It sounds like a door slamming," injected Sebastian, his ear tilted ever to the side, as though attempting to zero in on the source of the commotion.

The ruckus appeared to not have quelled there, but was growing louder - no, closer to the chamber, nearing in a rather rushed concession of blundering steps. Mey-Rin's hopeless cries could be heard gushing down the hallways in waves as she pleaded, "Madam! You mustn't disturb the Young Master! Please, he might not be decent! Lady, I'm begging you, don't -!"

Yet, whatever Mey-Rin was about to say was instantly lost to the sound of a door unhinging wide as - to Ciel's utter astonishment and mortification - Elizabeth galloped into his chambers, rivers of anxiety emitting from her brilliant features.

With a rather shameful squeak, Ciel hastily shredded up his blankets to his chin, conscious of the slightly modest bump swelling out from is almost mournful abdomen, fearing that her emerald eyes may snag upon it.

"Lady Elizabeth!" He addressed in a tone far too pitched for his pride, cheeks flooding with a rather unpleasant hue of magenta. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry to bother you like this," Lizzy burst out, tears of panic frothing within her striking irises as she flounced over to his side, too frantic to notice him withering further into the mattress as she locked her hands with his and shook them earnestly. "I know it is wrong of me, but I couldn't help myself! I was so worried about you last night! You seemed awfully sick. Are you ok? Because if you're not, I'll call a doctor straight away and I'll -"

Ciel released the most mellow of chuckles, bidding Elizabeth's silence immediately. Grinning upon her fondly, he politely steadied her hands and allowed her fingers to pool in his own, softly replying, "Hush, Lizzy. It is okay. I am alright now. There is no need to cry."

His denial of her tears only appeared to make them all the more turbulent and with the most acute of hiccups, they streamed down her cheeks, causing small rivulets of makeup to run in multiple directions across her pale skin.

"A-are you sure?" She blubbered through wobbling lips, her nails pressing just the smallest amount into Ciel's palms.

"Yes, I'm sure," Ciel voiced with a smirk, and sifting out a handkerchief from the draw of his bedside table, he began to dab lightly at the tears now marring Elizabeth's face. "Now come, it is not suitable for a Lady to be in a man's room uninvited. Mey-Rin shall escort you to the drawing room. I shall only be a moment."

XXX

Upon entering the drawing room, Ciel was not fazed in the least to discover Elizabeth stationed by the mantle of the fireplace, eyeing the photographs now sorting residence there. Now clad in a dense azure overcoat, Ciel was inflicted by no concern at all of raising suspicions as he edged over to her side, taking in the pictures that he had not payed mind to in quite some time. Lizzy did not shift her gaze at all, but held all of her focus upon the images, murmuring the softest of amounts, "They are beautiful photos, aren't they?"

"Yes, they are," he hummed, observing the photo of his mother most dearly, with her silken hair floundering in the breeze and her frock dancing about her heels, her colours lost in the black-and-white of the picture, but the dashing curl of her lips leaving a beautiful scar that would remain forever. Glaring into her dewy eyes, he desired for just a moment to suck her into himself, to ask the questions he so desperately longed to answer. How on earth was he supposed to give birth to a child? A demon child, no less? And how in the world was he supposed to love it? Care for it, as she had him? Surely her truth was just upon the very rims of her curled lips, only inches from being eclipsed, but encased amidst the silence of a photograph, a mere memory that could never hope to stir again.

Abruptly, Ciel tossed his head, sending his unbidden wonderings on their merry way. Huffing, he relapsed his gaze upon Lizzy, who immediately responded to his keen attention, positioning herself to face him once more.

"Sebastian shall prepare breakfast shortly," he announced, offering out his arm for her to take. "In the mean time, would you like to walk with me. The white roses are quite beautiful this time of year."

Lizzy took the arm brandished to her with a contented smile. "I would be happy to."

XXX

The vibrant light of the sun brought no warmth to the fields that resided beneath it, the very bones of its life chiseled away by the unrequited chill riling upon it, brushing away all pleas of heat with a single breath of its crass gale. Still, it had not perturbed the roses from thriving to their highest of heights, blossoming upon the horizon like torrents of ivory droplets within the fronds of thick, frosted leaves that served to shield them. Ciel could only express pleasant amusement for the amazement that spilled from Elizabeth's features as they dwindled in the tranquil quiet of the morning, overwhelming themselves with the niceties of the garden, the enticing fragrance of the flowers filling the two with such zeal it could've very easily slipped into Summer during that moment.

With a gasp of pure wonder, Lizzy goaded a finger towards a particularly small rose situated on its own within one of the hedges, quant in size, but so flamboyant and open in its appearance, it could've been just as exquisite as any other rose compared to it. "Oh, Ciel! Isn't that one just adorable?!"

With a tiny tug on his lips, an idea transcended upon Ciel's mind and unhooking his arm from Elizabeth's, he strode over to the rose and attempted to yank it free. However, to his evident chagrin, pulling upon it served nothing but to make him appear as a total fool. Gritting his teeth upon a rather abrasive growl, he dipped his head and began to spitefully chew upon the thorny stalk of the flower with all of the dignity he could possibly salvage in such a predicament. The watery juices of the plant fizzled bitterly upon his palette and his features wrinkled slightly in barrage against the taste. Eventually, when he'd finally managed to nip the last threads of the rose free, he whipped around and with cheeks bright with embarrassment, he graced the rose upon Lizzy's fingers, mumbling nothing more than a, "Here."

With a humoured giggle, her grasp upon the flower tightened by a marginal amount and she thanked him most exuberantly, her eyes brimming with gratitude.

His smile was aggrieved by the smallest of wavers as a prickle of guilt assaulted his heart, but internally shaking it free, he coiled his arm around hers once more and kindly coaxed her onwards, saying, "Come, Elizabeth. I need to speak to you about something."

"O-ok," was her timid response, her nerves clearly muddled by the suddenness of his action as he guided her to a fountain sprouting from the very centre of the garden and seated her and himself upon its ceramic edge.

Now seated, Ciel took a sturdy grasp of her hand, his brow contracted, his air gloomy, and in a manner of compassion, and yet equal restraint, spoke. "Lizzy, this may be difficult to hear, but please, do try to understand. It is not what I desire either, but it is my duty, and with duty, there does come much sacrifice…"

He paused for a moment to suck in a calming breath, before finally steeling himself and looking Elizabeth straight in the eye."Due to circumstances...I have been asked to travel to Switzerland for a while."

A blatant horror configured upon Elizabeth's appearance as she ogled at him, a terse gulp resounding anxiously from her throat. "How long?" Was all that she could possibly employ from her feeble voice, to which Ciel immediately blamed himself for causing, a far greater loathing accumulating inside him at the prospect of what he was going to say next.

"Twelve months."

"Twelve months?!" she exclaimed, a fresh instalment of tears making their presence known in her forest-green eyes as she infatuated her gaze upon Ciel's, an earnest devastation bleeding out from it. "But that's a whole year away!"

"I know," was all he could justify, stooping his chin low in resignation, his slate strands making a nuisance of themselves over his singular sapphire eye.

"But that's not fair! She can't expect you to do that!"

"I know, Lizzy," he affirmed again, true feeling seeping into his rich tones as he claimed, "Believe me, I did not desire this either. Not at all. But it is something that I must do. I don't have a choice in the matter."

Exploding in tears, Elizabeth wound her arms around him and sobbed fervently into his shoulder, her voice sounding miserably ill as she inquired, "W-when do you l-leave?"

"As early as tomorrow morning," he sighed into her grand spirals of golden hair, utterly deflated.

Another rightful sob escaped her, and with it came her pleading cry, "Please, write to me, Ciel. I couldn't bare not hearing from you!"

"Of course."

And as she clutched him, he felt poorly for his actions against her. It was all a fraud, a tease so she wouldn't discover the true reality of his condition. But it was better this way. As long as she did not abruptly grace the manor with her presence during the coming year, she would never possibly suspect a thing...

 **XXX**

 **Hey guys!**

 **Here's just a little moment between Lizzy and Ciel. I just adore them!**

 **Anyway, thank you all for reading this far! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and stay tuned for more!**

 **HeartElyse**


	11. Chapter 11

_**To Be a Mother - Chapter Eleven**_

"Please, my Lord! You must get out of bed. They are already waiting for you in the parlour. We can not refuse them."

The morning had been quite boisterous, to say the least. Sebastian had been trying for hours to pry his Lord from his bed, but as of yet, it had been to no avail. The butler felt grandly overtaken by his Lord's utter bullheadedness, with the boy not at all wavering in his little onslaught of hissing and spitting from beneath the blankets, causing Sebastian's patience to dwindle with each second that surpassed him. However, the demon would not even conceive the thought of submitting to his master's desires - at least not until an order was sounded - for the guests had already arrived and he was not prepared to send them back on their way.

"We?! There is no we!" his Lord gnashed out, rage so livid within his tone that it was purely unseemly, if the butler did say so himself. "I make the decisions around here! And I am telling you to send them away!"

"But surely you don't want to anger them?" Sebastian goaded, witnessing the boy's fury with nothing further than a spiteful twitch of a brow.

This must have warranted a pillow being thrown rather heedlessly in his direction, to which he caught with a rather impervious curl of his wrist.

"Why should that concern me?" the child seethed, now rearing upwards with his legs splayed beneath him upon the mattress, his fist still looming upon the air from where he'd ejected the pillow, his eyes two smouldering coals of infuriation. "Why should I even care what they feel about my actions? I'm the one who employed them! I'm the one -"

A quant gag rightfully brought silence to the boy, forcing him to stoop low against the bed sheets, grappling his stomach with a remorseful cry. Sebastian immediately stationed himself by his Lord's side, a bucket coming to materialise in his grasp in case the child was in need of it. Fortunately enough, the Earl recovered rapidly, with nothing but a pitiful cough to speak of, and yet even so, the bout of nausea was all that was necessary to cause injury upon the boy's turbulence, bringing unbidden calm to his rather fraught body. Smoothing a hand down the length of his master's shoulder, Sebastian found it most agreeable to press his point further, humbly certain that he would not be interrupted again.

"I am merely concerned that angering them might cause more rumours to spread. It's bad enough as it is. Surely, my Lord, you wouldn't want it to become any worse?"

In a haughty fashion, the child wrestled the hand loose of him. However, with a downy huff, he also prevailed. "Very well, Sebastian. You have made your point quite clear. But if this meeting turns into nothing but a disgrace on my part, than I shall solely blame you! Is that understood?"

Complying with a bow, Sebastian could not deny himself the pleasure of simpering, "Yes, my Lord."

XXX

Ciel felt nothing short of grim as he mournfully traipsed his way down the winding corridors of his mansion to the dreaded dwellings of his study where the meeting was soon to be gathered, mostly resigned to the shameful unpleasantries that were sure to greet him upon entering the room. With fanatical fingers, he tugged harshly upon the cuffs of his navy tailcoat, a fretful aura swarming about him, despite all of his attempts to stifle it. Halting upon the wake of those closed double doors that welcomed to nothing more but his doom, he clutched the tatters of his vanity, and with a portly exhale, opened the door.

Immediately upon his entrance, the three associates who had been participating in polite conversation within the room were instantly drawn to silence and lashed about their heads to discover the source of the intrusion. Identifying the source, all three stood to immediate attention, observing with nothing further but an air of class and formality as the Earl flounced into the space with his butler closing the doors swiftly behind him.

Ciel received his guests with a refined smirk, exchanging handshakes and friendly words before sitting himself behind his desk, feeling rather refreshed by the entire situation as it was. Perhaps he could survive the following hours without having to speak of his condition at all.

To his misfortune however, Ciel had barely given design to this thought before Mr Graham, a rather obnoxious gentleman who was employed purely for advertising in the Funtom Company could not restrain himself in piping up rather pompously, "And how are you feeling, dear Earl? Are you certain that you are well? I've been hearing rumours that you have been quite poorly as of late; is that so?"

Externally, Ciel provided nothing more than an appreciative smile, stating rather firmly, "Yes, I have not been at my best health as of late. But I have mostly recovered now. I am most humbled by your concern."

Internally, Ciel was squirming rather bitterly...

XXX

The meeting passed with no further mishaps or alterations, but was concluded with a smoothness that Ciel felt most prideful of. Upon its ending, Sebastian tended himself to Ciel's side and murmured, "That was well done, my Lord."

"Surely you have a better reason of being here than complimenting me," Ciel scoffed, rounding his back upon his butler in the hopes of returning to his bedchambers, as he felt gravely tired after the morning's events, much due to his wretched state of affairs than anything else.

"But, my Lord, there is nothing more important than complimenting the Master," the demon chided with more humour than what was publicly respectable.

"Sebastian," Ciel growled with all the surliness he could possibly muster in his exhausted voice. "Whatever you are going to say, just spit it out."

This seduced a snide chuckle from the butler. "I am merely informing you that Prince Soma called. He is desperate to speak with you."

"Tell him that I am unavailable. That I...that I have traveled to Germany on business matters and won't be returning for a year. And tell him that I wish for him to keep minding the Townhouse while I'm away. Make it sound very important."

"And the Queen, my Lord?"

"Address a letter to her, telling her that I have come down with a chronic illness and won't be able to uphold my duties for the time being. Oh, and that I am also very contagious, so she won't see any reason to visit, not that she would."

A broad smirk laced itself upon the demon's lips. "You are preparing quite early, my Lord."

"It is becoming more and more obvious everyday," was Ciel's reply, a slight jitter to his tone as he placed a self-conscious palm upon his abdomen, discontented by the modest swell he could feel residing there.

The butler's amusement trickled away with a mere sigh as he sauntered forward, guiding his master towards the staircase. "You appear awfully tired, my Lord. Perhaps a little more rest shall do you some good."

 **XXX**

 **Hey guys!**

 **Sorry for the delay! Things have been crazy recently! Thanks for all the encouraging reviews I received; they really helped to lighten my mood and brought a smile to my face.**

 **I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

 **HeartElyse**


	12. Chapter 12

_**To Be a Mother - Chapter Twelve**_

"S-Sebastian..."

A cry - mellow, stifled, and yet all together pleading - sent ripples through Sebastian's mind, piercing his eardrums amidst the din of the ageing night. He titled his head slightly upwards to capture the voice that descended from the chambers above, goading earnestly for his attention. Sebastian sighed, a weariness finding refuge within his mock bones, an unnameable disquiet stirring within him that he had not perceived in a long while. Underneath the illusion, Sebastian allowed himself a small chortle. He'd actually grown rather tired; how laughable.

Sebastian did not allow the cry to resound again, but submitted to it immediately. He took leave in the shadows and reappeared amidst the gloom of his Lord's bedchambers, the vulgar noise of unmasked retching instantly gnawing upon his senses. With no hesitation to speak of, Sebastian strode into the adjoined bathroom, where he was not at all appeased to find his master punctually purging himself asunder. The boy was hunched gruellingly over the ceramic bowl of the toilet, the entire length of his features as bloodless as porcelain, gruesome splutters of misery eclipsing from him with each convulsion that twisted his emaciated frame.

Upon feeling the demon's presence at his side, the boy tipped his wobbling head just the slightest amount towards the butler's direction, and Sebastian was most astonished to discover a film of tears splaying out upon the child's blanched and grime-riddled cheeks, an awful pain leaving creases upon his youthful skin.

"S-Sebastian," the boy barely managed to heave free before a new bout of nausea collapsed upon him, sending the poorly Earl reeling back into the basin, his abdomen hacking with a fresh upheaval of foul bile.

"Hush, my Lord," Sebastian hummed with all the ease he could invest in his voice as he lowered a palm over the child's rigid shoulders, applying soothing circles to the frozen bones beneath. "Just breathe, Master. You'll find it far easier to bear if you simply breathe."

The demon was greatly irked, for instead of complying to his instructions, the boy suddenly drew a haggard gasp, the muscles of his middle suddenly tugging inwards, the arms surrounding his abdomen growing incredibly taut, the faucet of vomit abruptly ceasing.

"What is it, my Lord?" Sebastian coaxed in uncertain anticipation, and for a moment, it seemed the child would give no answer, a mortified aura swallowing him. Yet just as Sebastian was about to reinstate his inquiry, the Earl responded, his fretful voice trembling so fervently that if Sebastian hadn't of been a demon, he might of misheard.

"I think...t-the baby...j-j-just k-kicked..."

The boy twitched again, clearly ailed by another internal assault, but instead of it being answered with yet another gasp, it was answered with a sob. A sob in which prevailed into a shower of sobs. Sobs that after numerous millenniums of observing humans cry, could not be defined at all as a joyful sob.

But rather, a sob of despair…

 **XXX**

 **Hey guys!**

 **I know it's been a really long time since I updated (almost a month, oh my gosh). The only excuse I have is just life in general. I just couldn't bring myself to write. I also got a little obsessed with other things, such as** ** _Attack on Titan_** **and** ** _Hetalia_** **(the latter especially). But a few days ago, I rewatched** ** _Book of Circus_** **and all these nostalgic feelings started coming back. I swear,** ** _Black Butler_** **will always have a place in my heart.**

 **So, I'm back! But I don't think I'll be updating as frequently as I was. I really only want to write when I'm motivated, otherwise I can't give my best work, and I really want to give my best work, since this story is so dear to me. I also have other ideas I'm working on at the moment, so I also want to carve out some time for them as well.**

 **Anyway, to anyone who's still reading this, I want to thank you for being patient, and I hope you're still enjoying the story.**

 **Please make sure to let me know what you think so far. I always appreciate feedback, as long as it's constructive.**

 **Thank you all so much!**

 **HeartElyse**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey guys!**

 **Since I'm super motivated at the moment, here's another chapter for you all! I hope it's to your liking, and I hope to get another one posted soon!**

 **I feel like I don't acknowledge your reviews enough, so I've decided that I'm going to start - or at least try - doing a mailbox with each chapter that I publish. I think you all deserve it for the time you take to write a review for me, so it's only fair that I do the same, and I really want to as well. So, here goes!**

 _ **Mailbox:**_

 _ **Guest - That's a good idea! I was always generally planning to make Ciel's body change a little (obviously!), but I wasn't sure how drastically I wanted to change it. But now that you've put that thought into my mind, I'm really considering going all the way! Thank you! I'll definitely keep your comment in mind!**_

 _ **MassiveMilkshakeNerd - I know! Making Ciel feel terrible appears to be my specialty; I don't know if I'm proud of that though. But it certainly makes for an interesting story! Aww, thank you! I'll try to do my best in my thing - writing and publishing. At least you didn't have to wait too long for the next update! Yeah, I know what you mean, and yes, I think Sebastian would adore the musical Cats, but I think he'd be sad that there wasn't any real cats involved.**_

 _ **Littleblackbirdflyaway - Oh, don't worry! I feel bad for doing this to him too. But I'm hoping this chapter will ease up a little on the anguish, but I won't give it away. Thank you so much for reading!**_

 _ **Promocat - Thank you for being so patient, and when you put it into that perspective, I guess it hasn't been such a long time since I last updated. I hope you are enjoying the story so far!**_

 **Now, please enjoy!**

 **HeartElyse**

 **XXX**

 _ **To Be a Mother - Chapter Thirteen**_

The first two weeks of January arose and dove as quickly as a timid wave upon a placid sea, leaving nothing more than small tremors dwindling precariously in its wake. With these two weeks arrived the suspicion that the dear master had been trying so deftly to avoid. However, the mere magnitude of this suspicion was not as catastrophic as what it could aspire to be, as the level of its extension had only reached so far as the selective servants of the Phantomhive Mansion. Still, it drew upon many threads of Sebastian's curiosity as he listened keenly to the five pronouncing their concerns to one another, their loyalty towards the Earl only solidifying in turn.

"Hey...have you guys noticed the Young Master lately?" spoke Finny's capricious inquiry from beneath the many layers of the manor, delving into the depths of the kitchen. It caused Sebastian's demonic senses to spike as he redressed his Lord's bed, due to the pools of sweat that had soiled it the evening previous.

"You mean...how 'e's getting fatter?" Bard's gruff voice equally asked and Sebastian could only seduce humour from his bluntness.

An appalled scoff from Mey-Rin pierced its way into the conversation. "That ain't right to say, Bard! I think pudgy is a bit more like it!"

"Strange, don't you think?" Huffed Finny, a discontentment branding itself upon his airy tone. The sound of running water provided life to the idea that the gardener was washing the vegetables for the Master's lunch.

"Perhaps 'e's eatin' too much," Bard insisted, truly defining how much of a simpleton he was, in that kind of aspect at least.

"But hasn't he been quite sick lately?" came Snake's introduction, hissing in return. "Surely he should've lost weight. Says Emily."

"Maybe it's just tea," Finny suggested with all the naivety he could possess in his miraculously strong frame.

"Now that's just silly, Finny!" Mey-Rin piped up again.

"I'm sure the Young Master has his reasons," objected Tanaka in a tone that always alluded to the prospect that the weathered Steward was aware of more than what he was actually implying. It coaxed a smirk to Sebastian's lips at the possibility. "However, it isn't something that us servants should be gossiping about."

Upon acknowledging this comment, the four other servants were immediately stubbed into silence. Yet by this point, Sebastian's attention had already fled. It was elsewhere, soaring upon the wings of opportunity and righteousness. Although he had not conversed with his Lord about the unidentified dilemma, Sebastian was very much conscious of the truth that the time was evanescing, and although he was very much certain that his Lord would not enjoy the reality of his conviction, it was a conviction that could not be ignored any longer.

Allowing his perception to wander astray, he swiftly located the boy, once again, in the confines of the bathroom situated adjacent to the study. With haste, he ventured to it, not perturbed in the least to witness the child exiting just as he arrived, appearing very much irate and disheveled by his irrational circumstances. Upon taking notice of the butler's presence, the boy whirled around rather unexpectedly - even for the demon if he admitted rather abashedly - and produced such a profound glare that had Sebastian been anything short of a fiend, he would of surely been slaughtered on the spot.

"Come to gloat, have you?" His master ground out through gnashing teeth, such raw emotion clotting his octaves that they trembled with it. "I swear, that has to be the hundredth time today I've needed to relieve myself! Honestly! This is just ridiculous!"

Sebastian was mildly halted for a moment, slightly unnerved by his Lord's rather shameless display. It was extraordinarily unusual for his master to reveal the crux of his more embarrassing situations to anyone, and especially Sebastian. To do it upon his own terms was just astonishing to say the least. Sebastian could only conclude that being pregnant was making his Lord far more open than what his said Lord had ever deemed appropriate before.

Still, it did not faze the demon for long, for in the space of mere seconds, Sebastian had recovered dramatically and was already establishing the more pressing problem at hand. "While that is all very well, Young Master, there is something quite important that I must discuss with you."

"Oh? And what would that be?" The child demanded nonchalantly over his shoulder as strode forward, pursuing the comforts of his study once more, or more correctly, the leather plush of his desk chair.

"It's more a matter that must be discussed with the servants," the demon eluded further, most intrigued to discover whether his Lord had become aware of the predicament through his own devices.

"That being?" his master inquired again, and Sebastian did not hesitate to enlighten him.

"The truth of your condition, my Lord."

The boy immediately froze, his hand resting adrift by the doorknob that led to his study, a jitter passing through his fingers. His entire body was overtaken by rigidness, a rigidness so perverse that Sebastian could practically listen to the gruesome noise of the child's bones twisting and groaning from beneath the frail barrier of his flesh. All breath and colour evaded him, leaving his cheeks barren and his lungs hollow in equal measure. His knees began to quake with such vigour that had Sebastian not reacted so soon, the child would have certainly collapsed.

In fluid strides, Sebastian was by his Lord's side and wreathed his arm around the boy's waist, making it very much impossible for the child to go toppling over in his wooziness. Seeing his master to be quite indisposed at this moment, he believed it most favourable to open the study door himself and lightly persuade the boy to enter the room, to which he did, if not a little resistantly.

"Why? Why? Why?" erupted from his lips in an incessant string of whimpers. Upon seating his master in his desk chair - where he shuddered and shook rather fervently, his fraught body tugging rather horridly into itself - Sebastian felt no pleasure in making the boy suffer through further hesitance, and answered his question with all the swiftness that the said question would oblige.

"Firstly, my Lord, they have already begun to notice. You have started to show a bit more than what you were before, and soon enough, it will become impossible to hide. Surely it would be far more appropriate that you told them yourself instead of them discovering the truth on their own?"

"Than just get rid of them, Sebastian!" The child wailed, his singular eye shimmering with suppressed tears, his lips wavering profusely, causing much curiosity to arise within the demon. The boy had been reduced to tears often lately, which was as to be expected of a lady who had recently been dubbed as pregnant, especially when it was regrettably so. However, observing his Lord losing so much order upon his own emotions was only inflicted grand concern upon the butler, concern that was not at all genuine or honest, but concern nonetheless. "Send them away! Kill them for all I care! No one will even notice a thing! Who will even come looking for there poor, unfortunate bodies?"

Allowing a terse sigh to escape him, Sebastian kneeled down before his master and cupped the child's convulsing hands in his own gloved ones, chipping the edge from his tone so it would appear more soothing upon fretful ears. "You are not thinking rationally, my Lord..."

"And how do you expect me to think rationally?!" The boy bellowed with such intensity that his voice splintered to pieces. He yanked his fingers free from Sebastian's grasp so he could instead use them to conceal his weeping eyes. "None of this is rational! Not at all..."

"I am aware, Master," Sebastian assured, a mock pleading lacing his buttery tone as he gazed upwards into the shrouded face of his Lord. "But please, sir, allow me to finish."

When no objections greeted his words again, Sebastian saw it fit to continue.

"All that I am suggesting, my Lord, is that while you don't think them as being necessary now, not having them around during this time, especially during labour may turn out to be very problematic."

"How so?" The child sobbed from beneath the veil of his hands, and Sebastian was moderately surprised to witness a tear dribble down his quant chin.

"First off, having extra hands is always helpful, and although the servants may be incompetent on the most part, when in need, they can all do their jobs surprisingly well. Secondly, as I am sure you are aware, giving birth can be quite a difficult process." This earned a watery snort from the Young Master. "So, having extra support might also make things a little more easier to bear. And finally, it will be impossible for me to defend the manor during that time, which will leave you vulnerable. Having the servants to guard the manor, especially if there is an attack will allow me to focus solely on my duty to you without the concern of intruders infiltrating the manor. Is this enough to convince you, my Lord?"

"And if one of them blabs the truth to anyone?" the boy huffed, wiping furiously at his tear-ravished face.

Sebastian obliged with a smirk, materialising a handkerchief for his Lord to take. "Than I shall dispose of them and whoever they blabbed to immediately."

The child exhaled again, his breath leaving with a quaver as he fixed his glare upon the ceiling, clearly agonised by the dread coiling within him as he brushed the handkerchief over his sodden cheeks.

"Very well, Sebastian. Bring them to my study. And quickly, before I change my mind."

XXX

The five servants stood remote within the centre of the study like suspects being condemned for murder. Bard, Finny and Mey-Rin shuddering within their places, each certain that they would be fired within the next moment. However, Snake and Tanaka were both resolute in their stances, more or less curious by the events that had brought them to where they were standing now before their master.

But if any of them were honestly convinced that their bodies simply couldn't bear the strain of being placed in such a position before their employer, than none of them had a clue. For in all seriousness, it was their employer who was the most rightful to believe that his body was too small to handle the burdens it carried. They tore bitterly at the seams, threatening to come spilling free at any moment.

Sitting behind his desk, Ciel's chin was tipped so low that streams of his slate hair poured over his aching eyes. He was feeling so stifled and fragile by his own terror that Ciel could not even stand to provide essence to any kind of word whatsoever. It was most fortunate that Sebastian was looming behind him like his very own indestructible shadow, making sense of his silence and instead filling it with his own velvety tones.

"Now that you are all present, the Young Master has something he'd like to tell you all."

The silence pressed upon him again, a silence that Sebastian no longer had right to fill. It was not the duty of the butler to fill such silences, but Ciel's duty, and Ciel's alone.

The loneliness suffocated him, as did the silence. It furled his tongue backwards into the very depths of his throat, making it entirely impossible to speak, to breathe. But still he parted his lips, yearning for sound to escape him, to shatter the silence that served nothing more than to shatter him instead with its heaviness.

"I..."

He faltered for a moment, his heart losing faith. And yet, with Sebastian's russet gaze cleaving holes through the back of his skull, and the eyes of his servants burning so brightly with anticipation that he withered in their glow, he found it too excruciating to be quiet any longer.

"I'm pregnant…"

Like a sudden downpour, astonishment gushed upon the faces of each servant in complete and utter unison. For what could've been an eternity, it settled there upon each of their sober expressions, swirling and coiling within their irises, melding their skin into a blanched white. Internally, Ciel writhed, waiting in sickening dread for the harsh exclamations and the flabbergasted demands to thoroughly deafen him.

And yet neither even came.

Despite their tremendous bewilderment, the servants harboured so much trust into their master's word that they did not even dare to question it. Perhaps they were aware that it was not their place to question it, or on a whim, they might have been able to understand that their master was also just as bewildered as they were and was not able to give answer to their ceaseless questions. Either way, despite the lunacy of it, they brushed the strangeness away as though it was a mere speck of dust, and that filled Ciel with such an unspeakable warmth that his heart quivered.

"That's…that's great news, my Lord!" cheered Finny in his ecstatic manner, and dashing behind the desk, he took Ciel's pale hands in his grimy ones and began to shake them profusely. "Congratulations!"

Mey-Rin's cheeks slammed with brilliant colour, and cupping her chin in her palm, she trilled, "Oh, my! How cute will that be?! Just imagine, a little tike running about the mansion!"

"How lovely!" Bard spluttered, wiping in vain at his teary eyes. "Our Young Master, expectin'."

"That's nice to hear, Smile. Congratulations," stated Snake in his stoic fashion, adding softly, "Says Wordsworth."

Tanaka simply bowed, grinning as he preached, "We are honoured to hear that, Young Master."

Ciel's voice had completely abandoned him, and for a long while, he could only ogle at his servants, his vision growing gradually distorted by withheld tears. Apart of him was deeply wounded, mauled by a guilt and an odd desperation that he'd believed he'd forgotten the ability to feel an age ago.

Just moments ago, he'd desired nothing but to kill these five people. But, as he replayed in his mind all that had been said and done by them, he realised just how much he needed them all.

Every single one of them…


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey guys!**

 **Here's another chapter for you! I won't say too much about it. I don't want to give anything away, teehee (I sound like the Undertaker).**

 _ **Mailbox:**_

 _ **MassiveMilkshakeNerd - Haha! I'm glad! Thank you for reading, and I'm so happy you enjoyed it! And of course there are REAL cats; I was just having a jest, as Joker would say. But 'I am not one for jests' is something that Sebastian would say as well ;)**_

 _ **TheRealGrellSutcliff - It's okay! They're coming through :) Although I do like your idea, and it would be something fun to do, I believe that going all the way will change my original idea of the story too much. I'm certainly not discarding it, as it really is a fascinating idea, but it has been my intention all the way through to keep Ciel at least somewhat himself, and to still keep him male, since this form of pregnancy works effectively with both genders. But thank you so much for your input, because it has really made me think over all the components of the story and has helped me consider things in greater depth. I hope you are enjoying the story so far.**_

 _ **promocat - Yes, I very much agree with that statement!**_

 **I hope you enjoy!**

 **HeartElyse**

 **XXX**

 _ **To Be a Mother - Chapter Fourteen**_

With the ceasing of January arrived the final frosts of February. And with it, Sebastian noticed his Lord's pregnancy also progressing with immense vigour and enthusiasm - at least in physical terms that is. In emotional terms, the boy had become increasingly erratic in manner of his feeling, and yet distant in the way in which he conducted this said feeling. He was a congealing flood of unpredictability that would often end with the demon very much disorientated in turn. It might've once persuaded the demon to express humour, but in these circumstances, he was instead rather barren, the sensation the nearest to concern that he, as the devil he was, could possibly endure. It was rather disconcerting to say the least, if he could honestly say anything about it at all.

Still, physically, the child was beginning to show more and more with each day that surpassed him, and as Sebastian obliged himself entry to the Earl's room on the 1st of February and acknowledged how aggressively the boy's abdomen had swelled over the last fickle three months, a rather unquenchable idea graced itself upon the very forefront of his mind, screaming to be adhered to.

"My Lord, would you like to travel to town today?" Sebastian inquired with fond curiosity as he imperviously handed a cup of Ceylon Tea to his sleep-riddled master.

"And why would I want to do that?" the boy counted in a voice ravished by tiredness as he seized the teacup in clumsy fingers and guzzled from it weakly as though the very liquid was the Elixir of Life.

Sebastian reined in his slight impatience with a tedious sigh, before accomplishing a cordial grin and speaking as though he had not been fazed in the least. "Because, Master, due to your condition, this will most likely be the last chance you will have to go out and enjoy yourself. Also you will need new clothes soon, and -"

"No."

Sebastian was tremendously faltered by his Lord's interruption and, with scarlet irises shrinking to mere pinpricks within the oceans of white that obscured the rest of his eyes, it took him several moments to recovery. "My Lord?"

"No, Sebastian," the boy reiterated, his voice shrouded with such severe sincerity that he seemed almost to be himself again, if his eyes hadn't been so low, glaring mournfully into the lapping waters of his teacup, with a film of slate falling like a curtain over them. "I'm not in the mood today, and neither am I in the mood to go any other day. I wish to stay here and look over paperwork for the Funtom Company. Instead, after breakfast, _you_ shall go alone and retrieve whatever I need."

"But, Young Master -"

"For God's Sake! Must I make everything an order?!"

The child lashed up his head and Sebastian was incredibly overtaken by the sight of those smouldering chromatic eyes spitting flames of violet and blue straight into his own, on the outside as steely and resolute as ever, but on the inside, gradually falling apart. Absorbing this vision into his mind, Sebastian took no hesitation in dipping his head as he complied with nothing further than a, "No, my Lord. I apologise. I shall do as you have asked."

XXX

"What is this, Sebastian?" his Lord questioned upon his return as he slouched back heavily behind his desk, streaming his fingers over the cover of a leather bound book Sebastian had gathered from the markets, along with a new set of clothes that should be splendid for his master to wear during the next two trimesters of his pregnancy.

"It's a book of baby names, sir," he informed with amiable intent as he tended to the boy's side, observing the Earl's reaction with keen attention. "I thought you might be interested."

Sebastian had been hoping most eagerly that the prospect of skimming through the book might bring his Lord at least a little bit of pleasure. The demon had often witnessed parents being much overjoyed at the possibility of naming their future child to be. Surely the Young Master would be no different.

"Burn it."

Had Sebastian required oxygen, his lungs might've hitched. "Pardon, my Lord?"

"I said burn it, Sebastian," the child's frigid voice wavered, raw, unbidden emotions seeping into its icy tones. "That's an order."

"But -" the demon breathed fruitlessly, but it was all very much useless. The boy once again rounded upon him with such a scathing stare it could've cleaved holes through his waistcoat, an unmistakable prickle of tears bubbling beneath.

"I said, that's an order, Sebastian!"

Sebastian saw no reason to delay further, so removing the defiled book from his Lord's quivering hands, he tossed its condemned pages into the raging flames of the fireplace and watched in bitterness as the inferno gnawed at it ravenously until it was nothing more but pitiful ash, its words stifled, its silent voice long since snuffed out.

And amongst it all, Sebastian was very much certain that he could see his master's shoulder's trembling.

XXX

"When you said this was my last chance to go outside, did you also mean to go out into the garden?"

Twilight had transcended upon the heavens, the sky strangely clear despite the unruly cold that plagued the day, with a beautiful flaxen ocean splaying out across it, with dapples of indigo sending ripples over its flaccid surface. Sebastian noticed in wonder as his Lord stood at complete ease by the window that overhung his study, his petite hand pressed to the glass, his timid nose so near to the screen that the demon was rather vexed that they had not touched yet, his gaze focused yearningly outwards to a place that only he himself could possibly witness.

"I suppose, my Lord," the butler replied with mild discontentment as he stepped towards his Lord, watching him with the utmost interest. "In case anyone does unexpectedly arrive at the manor, it would be far easier to conceal your condition if you are inside."

"Then I wish to go outside," the boy prompted with immaculate resolve as he swiftly turned upon Sebastian, his features seething with pure righteousness.

"Are you certain?" Sebastian inquired in moderate weariness. "It is quite cold."

"I don't care. You shall carry me outside into the garden and leave me be. I shall come back inside when I am ready."

"Very well, Young Master," Sebastian accepted, feeling it would do him no favours at all to argue any further. Sweeping one arm around the child's middle and another beneath his knees, he gently carried the boy out of the mansion and into the garden, where he placed him gently upon a stool that overlooked the maze of white roses. He then receded backwards, observing the child from a distance.

He could tell that the boy was shivering, but if it was because of the cold or because of tears, Sebastian was not sure, and yet anxiety clawed at him. Could his Lord handle this?

He truly didn't know...


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey guys!**

 **Sorry for the slight delay in chapters. I was a little lazy! But because of your patience, I think I shall post a second chapter as well.**

 **Now, time for Mailbox!**

 ** _promocat: I guess we'll just have to see if he can._**

 ** _RE1Ncarnation366: Thank you so much! I'm so happy that you're enjoying it and I hope you continue to enjoy it :)_**

 ** _TheRealGrellSutcliff: It would definitely be something really fun and interesting to write! I'll definitely consider it as a future idea, but I won't make promises at this point, just because I have a lot of ideas at the moment, not a lot of time to write them and suck at promises in general. But I shall let you know if and when I put this idea to action. Once again, thank you so much for the idea! It is a really awesome idea! Feel free to send me any other ideas you might have; I'll make sure to keep them in mind. In the mean time, please keep enjoying the story!_**

 ** _ChlomeTov: Believe me, writing this whole story breaks my heart! I am so glad that you're enjoying it and can appreciate the uniqueness of it. Oh, and don't worry; I'm definitely planning to have some fluffy moments with Sebastian and Ciel in the future, in their usual form of course! I hope you continue to enjoy the story!_**

 **Please keep reviewing and faving! But for now, lets get back to the chapter!**

 **HeartElyse**

 **XXX**

 _ **To Be a Mother - Chapter Fifteen**_

Ciel was horribly tired. He could've never possibly imagined being this tired. This weak. This fragile. For days upon end, so many days that his mind swum with numbers, numbers and hours that had long since trickled away into the apse of time that had already been forgotten and would never be seen again.

An ache consumed him, pitiless as it creeped up from the knotted coils of his lower back and strung itself over his spine in gruelling tendrils of anguish. There was no relief unless in slumber, slumber that was so fickle that it was pure excruciation. His ankles were riled by such heaviness that it was as though he'd been tethered to the Earth by an iron chain. He felt like a bird, a small, hopeless bluebird, encased behind the bars of a metal cage, with wings that had been fractured to pieces, and legs that had been broken like the little twigs they were, gradually dying, suffocating beneath all the ailments that it suffered. Just as the burdens suffocated him.

He clung to the banister for dear life, its dark willow shimmering like a slim current in his distorted sight, a set of twenty bleached fingers hovering over it, shifting like tiny boats upon an unruly sea. He'd been traveling down to the kitchen, but he could not recollect as to why. But the urge felt important, necessary, as though the reason had been something that he had very much cherished. More tea? But he could just call Sebastian for that, couldn't he?... But then again, maybe he hadn't been traveling to the kitchen at all... But then, where...?

Now thoroughly disoriented, Ciel made to take another step down the stairs, a step of pure faith...and missed...

He was most astonished to feel himself almost in flight - was it even possible to fly in such a state - before the very figment of gravity came crashing down upon his frail, little body…and he crumpled. His head careened into something rather blunt, and yet harsh as his weighted limbs hit the stairs with an awful thud, a thud that splintered horribly in his painful ears and he began to slip, and seep away. He was unconscious before he slid down upon the landing, the ringing cries of distress the last thing he was truly aware of until it all fell into darkness...

XXX

Ciel came coherent to those same cries of distress the moment he began to stir. However, as he did, he discovered himself no longer resting on something cold and stony, but rather something dense and warm, so gentle upon his pain-inflicted limbs that he could've been swallowed by it almost immediately, if these sounds of distress hadn't of irked him so.

"Will the Young Master be ok, Mr Sebastian?"

"That was a real nasty fall, I'd say!"

"Do you think he's unwell, Black? Says Oscar."

"Do you think he'll go into a coma?!"

"Ho ho ho..."

"Please, everybody," spoke a new voice, a voice devoid of all the panic that the others dripped with, the tone so delicate upon the air that it was almost like wades of cotton to his aggrieved ears. "Do calm down. The Young Master shall be perfectly fine. It is just a minor concussion and a few bruises. Nothing more. Now, if you're all finished twiddling your thumbs, return to your duties. The Master will not forgive you for slacking."

"Yes, Mr Sebastian," the cries of distress cheered in unison, causing immense agony to Ciel's pulsing skull.

Upon hearing the servants exit the room, Ciel attempted to utter a sound, yet all he could muster was an afflicted moan, his tongue so flaccid that he couldn't bear to breathe a word. Unfurling his sappy eyes, he was relieved to find the room completely barren of light, despite the perverse slivers that clawed through the slight creases of the curtains, giving shape to his surroundings, if only his vision hadn't been so decrepit. Recognising the space to be his bedchambers, he infatuated his bleary gaze with the figure situated by his side, the features of it so chiseled even with the blurry lines that ailed him that the prospect of him not knowing who it was was entirely improbable.

"S-Seb...ast...ian?" Ciel managed to strain out.

The figure released a soft chuckle. "It appears you're finally awake, my Lord."

Squinting his eyes in mild bewilderment, Ciel inquired, "What...w-what happened?"

"You fell down the stairs," the figure answered with a resentful resignation. Ciel flinched as a damp washcloth was lowered dutifully upon his palpitating forehead, despite the coolness being extremely pleasant upon his heated flesh. "It appears you have suffered a slight concussion and a few bruises. You also feel quite warm, although that is normal, and your ankles are rather swollen, which is also normal, although had you of told me sooner, I might've been able to assist you."

"I-I...d-didn't know," Ciel stammered, his lips not conversing well with the intentions of his mind.

"Ah, well then, I apologise for my negligence. How are you feeling?"

For a moment, Ciel was halted by the question. How was he feeling? What a broad question that was! In all honesty, he felt absolutely dreadful, completely overwhelmed by emotions that could easily make him burst into tears, physically wrecked by all the inflictions that had not quelled in the almost four months since they'd begun, and so miserable that 'broken' wasn't even the word that could possibly describe the harrowing battle that waged inside him.

But he could not say that. It was not the answer that Sebastian was requesting, nor would his pride even for a second answer a question in such a way. So he provided an answer in the only way he could.

"T-tired..."

Sebastian, now growing more opaque in his frazzled sight, grinned fondly. "Yes, my Lord, understandably so. But I will have to ask you to remain awake for just a while longer. It is not advisable to sleep while one has been recently ailed by a concussion. If you feel up to it, I shall make you a cup of tea and perhaps read you a story for the time being, until it is right for you to fall asleep."

Inside, Ciel's heart quivered just a little bit more. "Al-alright..."


	16. Chapter 16

_**To Be a Mother - Chapter Sixteen**_

The chill, the undeniable chill of terror was potent upon Sebastian's tongue, delectable upon his deranged palette, so sensual upon his nostrils that it was almost intoxicating. And yet it's appearance within the bewitching hours of the evening was not an agreeable sign at all, especially when it's aroma was riling with the delicate stench of his master. It had arose as a mere whiff of nervousness, a nervousness that had insisted the demon to be quite alert, but nothing further than that. However, as it had scaled upwards from panic, to blatant fear and finally to mind-numbing horror, Sebastian knew there was no room to possibly ignore it any longer. And just to prove his urgency sensible, a curdling scream belted from the depths of the mansion, rattling the very walls with its intensity.

Materialising in a mere heartbeat by his Lord's bedroom doors, he sent them bursting open with a single flick of his wrists. Rushing to his Master's side, he was most appalled by the image that glared garishly upon him. The boy was bound in a furl of blankets, lavished in rivulets of perspiration, his limbs ailed with spasms, his entire body writhing against the mock agony that plagued him. Accumulating upon his face were also tears, tears that slithered over the creases that served to be the bane of his complexion as he flailed and shrieked, sobs of mercy spilling out of him in unquenchable waves.

"STOP IT! PLEASE! JUST STOP!"

It was truly a horrid display.

Stooping low upon his knees, Sebastian extended out a purposeful hand, desiring to kindly shake the boy back into wakefulness. Yet, as his fingers curled tenderly over the child's shoulder, the child immediately tossed it away, even more shudders flittering over him as his distress only accelerated.

"LET ME GO! LET ME…! AHHHHH!"

Possible solutions wiring fitfully in his mind, Sebastian fled from his Lord's side for just a second before returning again with a frigid glass of water brimming in his gloved palm. Seeing no purpose in hesitating further, he simply tipped the glass forward, dousing his master entirely in the icy liquid.

Instantaneously, the child reared upwards, a tremendous gasp heaving from his lips as his eyes bulged wide, bubbling high with feral tears. In a state of utter disorientation, the child stuffed his hands fretfully beneath his pillow, clearly rummaging about for the pistol that was concealed within its feathery plush. However, taking the boy's wrists within his grasp, he strived to soothe him, despite all of the boy's twisting and struggling working fervently against him.

"Please, my Lord, do relax. It was merely a nightmare. You have nothing to fear."

In pure recognition of his voice, the child perked up his head, a fresh cascade of tears only soddening his cheeks further as he paused in his onslaught, whimpering, "S-Sebastian?"

Smiling with fabricated affection, the demon loosened his grip upon the child's slackened wrists, humming assuringly, "Yes, Young Master."

In response to this, the boy did nothing but bow his head, dripping hair falling over his equally soaked features and a new idea eclipsed upon Sebastian's conscience. "Wait just a moment, my Lord. I shall fetch a towel."

Once more, he left, and yet reappeared just moments later with a fluffy white towel to dry his master with. But as he returned, he was most astonished by what he discovered.

The boy had curled into himself like a petrified kitten caught off guard by a howling storm. His arms were knotted in earnest around his swollen abdomen, his face lost entirely within the cushioning of his pillow, and his quant shoulders shivering ruthlessly with sobs that could not be stifled. In curiosity, Sebastian reached out his hand and brushed his fingers upon the child's arm, mildly disconcerted by the child's behaviour. Yet, once again, his touch was rejected through violence, the boy sending his hand flying with a single, aimless swat of the boy's own palm.

"Just go away, Sebastian!" the boy yowled through a voice choked with grief, his face not leaving the pillow for even a moment.

"But -" Sebastian counted, feeling most weary of the child's health, not wishing for his Lord to become gravely ill, especially in his condition.

"THAT'S AN ORDER!"

Sebastian huffed out his exasperation, and with no space left for disagreement, he vacated the chamber with nothing more than a "Very well, sir," simpering in his absence...

XXX

Ciel's mind was in utter turmoil. The nightmare - so lurid, so turbulent, like blood splattered upon Ciel's retinas - spoiled his sight to clotted, rupturing scarlet. He could still feel it - those clammy hands pressing upon his fragile skin, leaving fiery, needle-sharp imprints upon his straining body. That immense agony, impaling through the very apse of his gut and splaying so much anguish throughout his entire frame that it had almost been impossible to endure. And those leering, masked faces fawning over him, mocking his suffering, teasing his anguish, driving him to almost insanity. The very memory of it caused tears to flood out all the more savagely.

It couldn't be how it really was, could it? That couldn't truly be how it happened, how it all ended, could it? For if it was, he wouldn't let it. He wouldn't allow it to be what it was. To him, it wasn't going to happen at all. This was all just a wicked nightmare produced by that unholy demon, to squeeze even more pleasure from his ruined soul. But he wasn't going to let him win. He wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

But if this was all just a nightmare, than what was truly reality?

He honestly didn't know...

Yet he chose not to ponder on it, and instead continued to bleed out his eyes and heart into his pillow, waiting with dwindling patience for the nightmare to end...


	17. Chapter 17

**Hey guys!**

 **I hope you've been enjoying the story so far. There's going to be a bit more action in the next few chapters, which I'm really excited about and I hope you'll be too! Just as a warning, twenty thousand pounds is a ridiculous amount of money in the 19th century, which is a little information just for your benefit.**

 **Now, Mailbox:**

 ** _promocat - No, I'm afraid he doesn't know at this point what is and what isn't (although he does, he just doesn't want to believe it)._**

 ** _Kate - Yes, I know and don't worry; it's breaking my heart too. But that probably means I'm doing something right ;)_**

 ** _MassiveMilkshakeNerd - Thank you! It appears to be what I am best at, and I'm glad it makes you feel that way; I guess it was my intention. Pain and heartbreak keeps a story moving, but I do intend to have a few softer parts in the future; we just need to jump this massive hurdle first, and than it will be so worthwhile when the time does come. Once again, I really appreciate your supportive comments; they really do make me very happy and very motivated to keep going!_**

 **Thank you for reviewing, faving, following or even just sticking with this story so far! It just adds so much more to the actually joy of writing a story :)**

 **And now, onto the chapter!**

 **HeartElyse**

 **XX**

 _ **To Be a Mother - Chapter Seventeen**_

The fifth month came in a dense haze of constant routine and indifferent tradition. Everyday was the same as the day that arose before it, with nothing important to revert to memory and nothing further to speak of - well, not in Sebastian's perspective at least.

His Lord's demeanour had frozen like ice as the weeks surpassed him, finicky in the way in which he trained his attention, and yet so disposed emotionally that it was a trying task indeed to read him.

The boy's nightmares had grown all the more turbulent with each night that he was ailed by them. But the child was so resolved and tender when it came to addressing them that Sebastian had not, as of yet, discovered explicitly what they entailed. And to make matters all the more insufferable, the boy had been completely disregarding his condition all together. He did not sit himself down when his ankles swelled, nor when Sebastian insisted it as being best, but paced all the more vigorously, testily berating Sebastian for his unnecessary concern. He did not sleep in comfort upon his side, as any pregnant person should've been doing in the state that he himself was in, but chose instead to rest upon his back, a truly unpleasant position that would serve nothing but to strain his spine and bladder, and make it a rather impossible challenge to sleep. And finally, he utterly refused Sebastian the obligation to check on the bump or anything of the sort, even going so far as to exclude Sebastian right of touching it when bathing, which made it exceptionally difficult to cleanse his Master properly. It coaxed a considerable measure of anxiety within the demon - which was all quite a tease really, as one had to be mightily insane to believe that a demon such as himself could possibly be inflicted by such emotions - however, Sebastian decided against voicing such worries to his Lord, feeling it to be more agreeable to leave the child alone during this most unruly time.

Still, when Sebastian brought his Master tea on a particularly uneventful Monday morning, he could not stifle his aesthetic when, upon allowing himself entry into his Master's study, he stumbled upon the boy scratching his expanded abdomen rather riotously, his features creased in ultimate agitation. Making his way to his Lord's side in motions that screamed swiftness and fluidity, he knelt down by the armrest of his Lord's desk chair and furled his spindly fingers around the child's wrists, dragging his feverish hands away from his assaulted belly.

"Please, my Lord, you mustn't scratch," he informed in earnest, pleading within the silence of his mind that for once, his Master might just take heed of his words. "You shall only leave scars."

"But it's itchy!" the boy snarled in pure exasperation, twitching and squirming in his discomfort as he yanked furiously at Sebastian's fists, attempting urgently to free himself.

"I know, Young Master. It's to be expected at this time." Undoing his impatience with a single huff, Sebastian hefted himself back upon his feet and unhinged his hold upon the child's arms, addressing the boy in quick concession. "I shall return in but a moment with lotion that should be able to soothe the itch."

The Earl was paying no mind to him whatsoever, but was once again clawing rabidly at his bulging stomach, a wild irateness clouding his blazing azure eye. Vowing to hurry, Sebastian spun upon his heels and fled the room, the tails of his coat flittering in his quickness. In a small collection of moments, he had retrieved the small tub of Hudson's Cold Cream from his Lord's bathroom and had reappeared at the door to his Lord's study. But upon opening the said door, he was brought to quite a stupor by what was presented to him.

If he could be somewhat poetic in his analysis of the room, he would say that its feathers had been quite thoroughly ruffled. The silver trolley that had been stationed just by the edge of the desk had been completely overturned, with the emerald embellished tea set resting in splinters of glass just ahead of its fallen frame, with large pools of Green Tea trickling out across the carpeted floor. To accompany the glass were an array of books, now with their covers bruised and their pages crumpled, lying hopeless upon the rug. Shattered ink bottles were strewn across the desktop, their clotting dark contents leaving lurid stains upon the willow surface. The desk chair had been tossed aside, leaving a perfect opening to the agape window that loomed behind it, with the glass in tatters and the curtains shredded. And finally, what was the most peculiar part of all was that his Lord was no where to be seen and Sebastian could not sense his presence within the manor at all.

Sebastian drew in a long breath, allowing the many aromas that cloyed the space to dance upon his palette, and immediately took note of a scent that he should've acknowledged before, but had failed to do so, due to the distraction of his Lord's itchiness. The rancid stench of tobacco, shrouded by dishonesty and savage intent marred the entire chamber, leaving an aura that would remain for months. Sebastian could only respond with a terse sigh.

It was impossible to cure his Lord's itchiness now. Although he supposed that if the boy's hands were tied, it probably wouldn't matter...

XXX

Ciel stirred to the vexatious sensation of rich, biting cold soaking into the fibres of his bones, causing tremors to crawl in waves across his callow skin. An effervescent pain fizzled within the base of his skull, a pain that feathered out along the entire circumference of his face and filled the depths of his limbs with a dull, unforgiving ache. Releasing a moan, Ciel drew his eyes into further closure, fearing what might be brought to his rather insufferable realisation if he dared grant them the warranty to open, and neither did he believe that sight was necessary to be aware of exactly what had become of him.

He could feel tight bonds enfolding him, scathing ropes that sowed his limbs to the seat he was now lolling in, a brittle wooden chair that cleaved mercilessly into his spine and engulfed his body in a teeming bush of splinters. The position he was situated in consequently caused the irrepressible womb to bear down upon his bladder, and in response, he twitched urgently, trying to straighten himself, but found that the ropes had been wound with such sincerity around his delicate frame that the only part of him that could possibly hope to move was his head. With another rightful moan, Ciel fought desperately to clench his thighs together, willing the rattling sludge of his mind to not conjure up the unsavoury thoughts concerning what might occur, should he not relieve himself in due time. Also, that unholy itch of his belly had resurfaced at full throttle, nipping at the rubbery flesh of his stomach with all the gusto it could possibly manifest. He flinched and shuddered in earnest, but with his hands merged unyieldingly behind his back, he had no possible vantage in which he could provide it ease.

The vulgar stench of dampened mould and thawing flesh clung to his nostrils, causing his grieving stomach to froth and curdle all the more gruesomely. Unabashed, squawking voices drifted into his fragile, assaulted ears, speaking in accents so gruff and with words so profound that Ciel did not require much wit at all to classify his whereabouts to be somewhere within the grime-riddled confines of the East End of London; but as to his more refined location, he possessed no clue, which did not settle well with him at all. From just outside the interiors in which he was being contained, he could detect soft, incoherent murmurs, murmurs in which rang several bells within his withered mind, but gave no indication as to why they appeared so familiar to him or who those murmurs even belonged to.

The offensive shrieking of rusted hinges turning took capture of Ciel's attention, causing him to rear up his chin with hurtful slowness and wince apart his single, uncovered eye. Shards of serrated light instantly jabbed their way into his vision and he blinked in anguish, his lashes feeling gloopy and syrup-like as they tugged upon each other, wishing to remain knitted together. Commanding his eye to remain open - regardless of what he suffered in doing so - he sent his gaze scouring the entirety of the room that imprisoned him, desiring to familiarise himself more correctly with its weaknesses than its architectural beauty, which was so fickle that it was almost fair to say that it possessed none at all.

It was a small, quadratic chamber, or rather a tin shed to be accurate, quant in size and murky in appearance, with vast punctured holes defiling its walls and a tiny, dust-cluttered window looming from above. Perhaps if one were to pry slightly at those holes, than the tin would bend to one's every whim, but that would be mightily improbable in the circumstances that Ciel was in, for Ciel could hardly move his arms, let alone extend one of them to the stated holes. In the centre of the space came into focus three figures, one in which transcending the others in stepping nearer to Ciel, so near that Ciel came to gradually recognise who he was.

"Jordan Porter," Ciel summoned the gall to snarl through rigid, chattering teeth. His flaming sapphire glare fixed upon the scrawny silhouette of the man hovering over him.

"Well, if it isn't Little Phan'omhive," the figure drawled in a tone as grating as gravel and as frigid as frozen glass. "I'm surprised yee still remember me. I believe yee were only eight years old when we met."

The figure sidled just a little further into the slim light protruding from the window, providing illumination to his sallow, bony features that reminded Ciel so much of a vulture that it sent shivers fluttering down his shoulder blades.

"Well, how could I forget such an ugly face?" Ciel challenged, even managing the nerve to smirk, despite the magnitude of his predicament.

Jordan's emerald irises sharpened at this. Stooping down low so that his narrow, beak-like nose was mere inches from Ciel's own, he cupped a large, scabbed palm underneath Ciel's chin and promptly jarred his head upwards, replying to Ciel's snark with a slobbery growl, with breath so induced by tobacco that Ciel almost barfed.

"I'd watch what I'd say if I were you, Phan'omhive. After what yee father did ta me, I think I deserve compensation, don't you?"

A rumble of outrage seethed from Ciel's throat.

He remembered meeting this man so clearly, it could've merely been the day before. Being the naive eight-year-old he was, he'd accidentally stumbled upon the man discussing business matters with his father, rather unceremoniously disrupting their conversation. They had both been rather forgiving of his childish blunder, but Ciel had immediately sensed something not quite genuine about the man and had taken notice of the erasable greed within his sly, emerald-hued eyes. The man, Jordan Porter as he was known, had been the Funtom Company's Financial Director for a number of years. However, a number of months after Ciel's first meeting with him, he was removed from the company after the discovery that he had been stealing money from it over the selective years that he had been working there. Although Vincent did not press charges, he made his wrongs very much public, which he knew would not hand the man any favours, and from what Ciel could gather - from the man's shabby, unwholesome appearance to the very fact that he himself had been imprisoned by the man - it was reasonable to say that he had not been doing all that brilliantly since.

"What could you possibly want with me?" Ciel snapped, his nose wrinkling in spite of himself. "From what I understand, it is my father who you have the grudge against, and surely him being dead is irony enough."

Porter tossed his head in utter disagreement, his eyes shrinking to slits of green ice as he observed Ciel more thoroughly, his clutch on his chin only growing more constricting with each passing second.

"Yee fail ta understand the extent of what yee father did ta me, Little Phan'omhive." Porter laughed bitterly. "Yee see, after he went ta the press and told 'em everything about me, I haven't had a job since. I was forced ta even move ta the East End with me wife and children, barely scrapin' by. Yee father deserves to pay for what 'e did ta me, and not only 'im, but the 'ole Fun'om Company does, and yee own it now, so yee deserve ta pay too. I want compensation, and yee ain't leavin' until I get it!"

A feral irritation swallowed Porter's expression, threading out from his jagged eyes, all the way to the very fringe of his gaunt face. Ciel felt a spasm of disgust wriggle through his entire being, yet despite the urge, he did not cringe away from the man, but continued to stare at him with all the determination he could possibly muster into his single, contemptuous eye. "I'm sorry to say this, Mr Porter, but I'm afraid you'll have to do more than kidnap me. You could say that I'm rather used to this treatment. It happens quite a lot, but unfortunately for my captors, they often lose at their own game."

Porter teetered back for a moment, absorbing his words with another discordant chuckle, a chuckle that Ciel very much longed to never hear again. "That is true, Phan'omhive. As I woulda expected from yee lot."

Without the slightest breath of warning, Porter once again rushed forward so that he and Ciel were practically nose to nose, and with no ceremony whatsoever, extended his other hand and furled his spidery fingers over the excessively large bump of Ciel's swollen abdomen. Ciel immediately bulked at the unrighteous touch, an unquenchable panic jolting the very cords of his heart. A gasp escaped him, a gasp that had been tremendously unbidden and unwanted as he attempted fruitlessly to wrench his jaw free from Porter's clammy clutches, a fractious heat smothering his cheeks. Porter only jutted Ciel's head out further, his infernal chortling overtaken by mirth.

"I'd say, Little Phan'omhive, yee gotten a wee bit pudgy lately. Although..."

Those indecent, crude fingers began to dance and frolic along the entire expanse of Ciel's perverse stomach, leaving swathes of ungodly feeling upon it. He prodded the terse exterior in a manner that was far from gentle, making Ciel shrivel within his bindings, horror turning his blood unbearably frigid at the thought of this surly, tasteless man discovering the truth.

"I must say," Porter continued, rasping with brutal humour. "I thought fat was supposed ta be flabby, but this is as stiff as a rock."

The fingers poked with a new ferocity, and Ciel felt his lungs contract in pure foreboding.

"Yee know me wife," Porter's voice slithered into Ciel's ear, and Ciel could not suppress his tremble of revulsion at the feeling of the man's nauseating breath smearing upon his neck. "She's been pregnant four times now. She's even got another one in the oven. And I say, every time she 'as, 'er tum's been just like this one."

Porter exhibited a pause here, clearly trying to emphasise the enormity of his words, and it worked marvellously. Ciel was doused by numbing terror, terror so stupendous in its size that it completely unraveled his mind, sending all rational thoughts sloshing about like a fanatic whirlpool. He felt suffocated, as though an implacable mountain of blankets had been thrown upon him and he could not find the means to escape. And yet he felt so ravished by the icy talons of dread that he feared he might be torn to smithereens. To make matters all the more diabolic, in that very moment, the baby within him kicked with such ruthlessness that Ciel jerked rather tumultuously in his seat and with another one of those awful laughs, he knew, with absolute conviction that Porter must have felt it too.

"How would yee feel if I went ta the press, hmm?" Porter inquired in a tone brimming with mockery as his hand came to rest completely upon Ciel's protruding belly, caressing it with brazen softness and Ciel gulped thickly, his unrequited shame and humiliation only serving to pronounce themselves further. "And told them that the dear Earl Phantom'ive is with child. But wait! Not Earl Phantom'ive, but perhaps...Lady Phantom'ive? Imagine their astonishment when they discover the truth, the secret that the Phantom'ive family has been keepin' for over fourteen years. And not only that, but their beloved 'Earl' is pregnant too. My, and she's not even married yet! What a disgrace!"

"B-bastard!" Ciel could not help but stammer, his throat so taut that it felt as though it was caught in an iron vice, only moments away from being squashed to pieces. Feeling positively stifled, he kept his eyes scrupulously shut, already far too aware of what he would witness, should he open them; Porter's wicked slash of a mouth wreathed by the most degrading of grins and those wretched irises, alive with the spark of pure gluttony.

"Just as I suspected," Porter returned, his crass smile leaking into his tone. "Now, I tell yee what. I'll give yee two days to willingly give up the ransom I'm after. But if in two days, yes still ain't willin', well than, I might just have a wee bit of a chat with _The Times_ , maybe even hand over some photos if they're willin' ta pay. It's not a hefty sum I'm after; twenty thousand pounds is all I want."

The hands upon him abruptly retracted after those words and Ciel did not utter a sound in response, but simply shifted his head to the side, unable to gather the wits necessary to face Porter at that moment. He instead allowed his disheveled lengths of slate hair to drape over his blanched cheeks, feeling too deplorable to do much more.

"We shall leave yee ta cook on that for a little while," Porter addressed for the final time before turning his attention to the other two men in the room. "Come on, boys! Let's be off!"

And with the heinous patter of footfalls, pursued by the atrocious shrieking of hinges rolling shut, Ciel was left completely and utterly alone to his misery.


	18. Chapter 18

**Hey guys!**

 **Another long chapter for you all!**

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 ** _ChlomeTov: I'm glad you love it and I hope you continue to love it! Thank you!_**

 ** _promocat: Yes, I know. Ciel is very poor at the moment._**

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 **HeartElyse**

 **XXX**

 _ **To Be a Mother - Chapter Eighteen**_

"Mr Sebastian!"

An exuberant cry, in the dwindling hours of that same day snagged upon Sebastian's attention, instantly relieving him of his scrupulous tidying of the now immaculate study. Rearing up his head from the final dollops of dust that soiled the mahogany desk, he was not at all appeased to witness Finnian barging into the room, his damp, earth-covered boots leaving streaks of muddy footprints on the pristine, moss-green floor, in which only moments ago had been entirely clean.

"Mr Sebastian!" Finny repeated airily, huffing slightly as he barrelled over to Sebastian's side, his vast emerald eyes screaming with manic anxiety. "A detective from Scotland Yard is here; Fred something or rather, I believe he said. He's demanding to see the Young Master."

Sebastian unleashed a refined sigh at this, placing the duster at his hip and dragging his impeccably gloved fingers to his temple, massaging it in utter impatience. "Very well, thank you for informing me, Finny. I shall deal with him straight away. Now please, return to your duties."

A broad, dazzling grin fluttered upon the boy's lips. "Of course, Mr Sebastian," and with his flaxen hair shimmying about his slender face, he flew away, back into the depths of the mansion, those nefarious footprints treading in his wake.

Sebastian felt it best not to delay the moderately energetic man further - or was it more correct to say 'highly strung'? He proceeded down to the drawing room, where the detective was subsequently waiting, sitting upon the very edge of one of the velvety couches, fiddling with his thumbs out of pure earnest. Upon Sebastian's arrival into the room, Abberline immediately shot to his feet, standing to full alertness.

"Ah! Mr Abberline," Sebastian greeted with an amiable smirk. "How may I help you this afternoon?"

"I must speak with Earl Phantomhive as soon as possible!" Abberline informed in a voice that, if not a little breathless, than greatly insistent.

"I'm afraid my Master is unavailable at the moment," Sebastian replied factually, lifting a steady hand as the detective advanced forward, as though prepared to trample the butler at any moment.

"What do you mean 'unavailable'?" the detective fretted, curling his fist around Sebastian's raised wrist in severe exasperation. "Am I too late?"

"And what would you mean by that?" Sebastian inquired nonchalantly, cocking a jagged eyebrow.

Abberline released a tested exhale, combing his fingers through his shabby chestnut hair in agitation before loosening his hold upon Sebastian's arm and instead withdrawing a small wade of parchment from the breast pocket of his trench coat.

"Yesterday evening, Scotland Yard received this anonymous note from a passerby. I believe it concerns the Earl Phantomhive."

Abberline extended out the said note to the butler, and accepting it, Sebastian unfolded the paper and surveyed the contents. It was a peculiar proclamation indeed, a short letter, addressed in handwriting so serrated and so spindly that it could've been woven by a spider.

 _Dear Mr Phantomhive,_

 _I doubt you'll be seeing this, for you've been in that grave of yours for a long time coming. So sorry…_

 _Anyway, even though you've been dead a while now, I can still get my revenge on you. And I will, so you'd better be watching!_

 _J._

Sebastian memorised the writing for just a moment longer, feeling as though he'd stumbled across it sometime before. Taking this in his stride, Sebastian once again tuned his interest to Mr Abberline, who appeared most keen to observe his reaction.

Swooping forward in a generous bow, he hummed, "Thank you, Mr Abberline. This shall assist me considerably."

As Sebastian spun about on his heels, eager to reassemble himself in his Lord's study, Sebastian was interrupted by Abberline, who once again grappled his fingers around his arm, and shifting his gaze with mild contempt over his shoulder, Sebastian was not at all astounded to see the man's frustration bleeding out from his features.

"But how can you possibly solve this on your own," the detective stated in a tone riddled by bewilderment. "You are only a butler."

Sebastian believed this words warranted a dangerous chuckle. "Ah! But that is where you fail to see, Mr Abberline. I am simply _one hell_ of a butler."

XXX

"...Nnnggh..."

Ciel could not decide what was more intolerable; the complete and utter embarrassment of his extremely unruly condition or the rather graceless sound that had just made its presence known upon the air from the very bearings of his gnashing teeth. It had been several gruelling hours since he'd been left to his own devices, and the pressing sensation upon his bladder had arisen by ten-fold. Had it of been any other circumstance, he might've felt just the slimmest amount of pride for managing to last for so long. In this state, just half an hour was a fine challenge. Several hours was truly unheard of.

He'd scoured the space on multiple accounts for any source of distraction, yet despite his other discomforts - the monstrous hunger gnawing relentlessly upon his dilated stomach and the scolding thirst turning his tongue as brittle and crisp as a stale biscuit - nothing appeared as enticing or as all-consuming as the horrible tingling within his loins. All he could do was whimper and fidget despairingly within his bonds - regardless of how the abrasive ropes minced his wrists to pieces in affect of his idle struggling - and reap the solace those actions gave - if they really gave any solace at all - as he tried in hopeless earnest to not wonder on what might happen, should he be left to sit there for just a while more.

Amidst his stupor of utter loathing for his predicament and displeasure at his own inability to ease his situation, he was abruptly aroused to the abhorrent sound of the rusted door creaking open and he was not certain whether his spirits soared or plummeted further at the sight of one of Porter's cronies striding out from behind it. The man was towering and was admirably sustained, with shoulders and arms of enduring muscle and a face so hard-set and cleaved by hideous scars that even Ciel felt his own nerve waver. Yet, as the man approached Ciel's side and knelt down before him, the man produced a toothy grin, a grin so neutral and non-threatening that Ciel was immensely overtaken by it.

"Come on, young lass," the man insisted, his affable smile never serving to falter. "By now, you must be burstin'."

Ciel was at first aghast by the man's fond demeanour, his lips hanging just the slightest bit ajar and his lonesome eye bulging in a spell of pure disorientation. However, as it gradually dawned on him what exactly the man was implying, Ciel suddenly felt as though he was writhing about within the flustered barriers of his own flesh, an unbidden warmth thrusting up the length of his neck and welling in a rather ferocious hue of scarlet upon his doughy cheeks. He immediately attempted with all of his will to draw himself completely still within his seat, despite how the urge to squirm was entirely encompassing. He was indignant enough for being addressed as 'young lass', but actually proving the man correct in his assumptions would be absolutely unbearable.

With leisurely, stalwart fingers, the man begun to untie the ropes with such agonising slowness that Ciel might've shamelessly pleaded for haste, had his vanity not of had such an unswerving grasp on his tongue. The man first discharged Ciel's ankles, prying at each seperate knot with a calm that Ciel did not feel he could afford at the moment and unwove each individual leg so concisely that Ciel could not prevent himself from wondering if this torment was truly purposeful or not. However, as the man's hands slid up to his chest and started to prod at the ropes upon it, the man levelled his gaze upon Ciel's slightly bothered appearance and fostered such a hearty simper upon his crusted lips that Ciel came to doubt his actions to being anything but sincere, and instead arrived home to the possibility that the man was too daft to properly comprehend the true gravity of his most unendurable state.

By the time the man's fingers had eventually risen to Ciel's whittled wrists, Ciel had quite grudgingly succumbed to wriggling about in his chair by just the tiniest of measures, so close to relief that it was utterly excruciating. A cold sweat had broken out upon his forehead due to the mere exertion of holding himself together and a fresh whimper was pushing itself against the barricade of his sealed mouth, as keen to be rid of him as he was to be rid of it. Yet he did not conceive even the finest of sounds, despite how it choked him badly to not do so, for the utter chagrin of being heard making such an indecent noise over something that was equally as despicable was not a feeling that Ciel was at all compelled to withstand at that moment.

The last of the ropes was finally unsnarled from his wrists and Ciel could've sobbed in gladness. However, he did no such thing, but instead remained wholly situated in his chair, all too fearful that if he stood too heedlessly, than he might loose his bearings altogether. To his consolation, the man took no pause in gesturing over to a deep porcelain bowl sitting by the far right corner of the room and he stated with mild awkwardness, "Just use that, me dear. I'll be just outside." And with that, he departed through the shed door, leaving Ciel to shudder in his wake at the horrendous reality of being called 'dear'.

Had Ciel of been any less desperate, he might've blatantly refused to use the bowl as a toilet, for the very thought of using it was a thorough wounding to his status in society. However, in his condition, denying himself would certainly lead to even more disgrace on his part, and with this serving to plague his mind, he used the bowl without complaint, feeling most contented in doing so, ignoring the vulgarness of it.

Once finished, he allowed himself to stand in the centre of the room for the moment, and found himself rapidly yearning to sit back down. Despite the chair being the very bane of his tender buttocks, upon releasing himself of it, a bout of dizziness had swept over him - most likely due to an inadequate level of sustenance since the morning's breakfast - and his ankles had swelled so dramatically within his compressing, knee-high boots that it was utterly torturous to bear any weight upon them. Ciel also took the opportunity to examine his smarting wrists and was rather revolted to find them seething with burns and dribbling with blood.

"'You finished in there, lass?" a dopey voice inquired from just outside the shed door, to which Ciel immediately responded by lowering himself back down upon the rickety chair and nodding with an evident flush.

Then, acknowledging his foolishness, he managed to stagger out a rather coy, and yet exceptionally dignified reply, a crimson humiliation fleshing out upon his entire body. "Y-yes, I-I am."

With this invitation, the man reentered accordingly and, seeing Ciel already returned to the chair, he thus began to bind Ciel to the seat once more, making quick work of it. Clearly, he was more competent at tying ropes than untying them. At least he was no longer expressing a grin anymore, but rather a grimace instead, especially when he appeared to witness Ciel's bloodied wrists.

Once the bonds had been reestablished, the man materialised a tin pannikin of water from his side and raised the rim of the cup to the edge of Ciel's lip, subsequently allowing the cup to teeter forward and the water to spill into Ciel's mouth. Ciel spluttered due to how carelessly the man was pouring the water, and yet he guzzled it avidly, the cool liquid soothing the papery sensation that induced his whole tongue, feeling himself shiver just the smallest of amounts as a measly bubble of water escaped from the corner of his lips and drizzled down his neck.

"That's it, lass," the man spurred on, making Ciel's stomach stiffen in disgust.

Although this wasn't the most sophisticated position to be in - lapping up the water like a feral cat - due to the fact that he hadn't had anything to drink since the Earl Grey tea that had accompanied his breakfast, he was honestly too thirsty to care.

To Ciel's moderate dissatisfaction, the flow of water ceased far too hurriedly and with the pannikin empty, the man placed it upon the floor and rummaged a hand through the pocket of his overalls, mumbling in a tone festering with weariness. "Now, I'm not supposed to be doing this, but here goes!"

From his pocket, he withdrew a Cornish Pasty, wrapped firmly in brown parchment, with its pastry exterior an exquisite golden and its deliciously homey aroma permeating throughout the entire room. Ciel's mouth began to flood with saliva at just the sight of it, taunting him with its presence, his stomach craving for it so insistently that it ached. Yet, as the man brushed the crispy corner of the pastry upon Ciel's lip, Ciel did not surrender to his yearnings and munch down upon it, but instead chewed fervently upon his tongue - as though it could somehow offer the same pleasure - and lashed away his head, his eyes clamping shut. Drinking from a person's hand was one thing, but eating from a person's hand was an entirely different matter altogether. While he was utterly famished to the point of feeling almost ill, he refused to be commanded by such urges, such futile desires. He was no animal, and he refused to stoop so low as to eat like one.

A disconcerted sigh breezed into Ciel's ears. However, when the man's voice heaved out into the air again, Ciel was humbled, for it did not ring out with any kind of impatience whatsoever, but feathered the room with waves of genuine concern.

"Now, come on, lass. You must be half-starved by now. My wife's pregnant, and her midwife said she needs to eat as much as she can, whenever she can, for her sake as well as the baby's. And boy! Ain't she got the appetite for it!"

Ciel squinted open his eye the smallest of amounts and glanced bashfully at the pasty looming before him, a resentful scowl lacing his features. It was true; ever since he'd embarked into his second trimester of pregnancy, his appetite had increased dramatically, and Sebastian had been working studiously to provide small, nourishing meals to him ever few hours of the day. It was rather taxing to have such a large taste for food, especially in these circumstances. Usually, hunger wasn't such a dilemma; _that_ month had made him very much used to malnourishment and food deprivation, meaning that in minor kidnappings, not eating was not really a means of suffering, but rather an irritation. Now however, he felt somewhat sickly and mildly wretched from being deprived for such a prolonged period of time, and denying himself was causing him to feel all the more unwell, just to uphold an image that had been excessively trodden on by Porter already. But he supposed what business did images have anyway? For soon enough, Ciel would make sure that these men were very much dead and whatever image they'd gathered of him would be buried in their graves along with them.

Assured by this, Ciel allowed his head to twist back around and being conquered by his body's unrequited hankering, he sank his teeth sheepishly into the pasty. Immediately, the puff pastry exploded in a plume of wispy crumbs, crumbs that dusted themselves blithely upon Ciel's chin and came to rest airily upon Ciel's exceeding abdomen, making an incurable blush infringe upon Ciel's cheeks and a spark of annoyance simmer within Ciel's eye. With the first bite, there inconspicuously came another, and then another, until Ciel was practically wolfing down the savoury delight with all the regality and modesty he could possibly manage in the insensible state of affairs he'd been dealt. He concluded that the pastry must have been salvaged from a local bakery, for the insides were still steaming with warmth and although it was not the most extraordinary pasty he'd had the privilege of enjoying in his life, it was still so decadent that he could not help but savour every mouthful. However, there was an interval in which he abruptly desisted in his indulgence, suddenly in fright that the food might have been intentionally poisoned or fused with drugs. For a heartbeat, Ciel chanced a glimpse at the man's eyes, now dubious of the man's benevolence, worried that it was not as skin deep as it appeared and only existed to assuage him into a false sense of security. Yet, when he could not think of any possible benefits that could be gathered from either poisoning him or drugging him - at least not yet - he continued eating as if nothing had served to dissuade him.

Once he'd finished, the man unsheathed a handkerchief from another of his pockets and began to dab away the crumbs adorning Ciel's cheeks and neck, to which Ciel did nothing but downcast his eyes, hating his helplessness most arduously. With his bitterness surging over the banks of his control, Ciel tossed up his head, lonely eye aflame as he spat out, "Why are you doing this?"

The man retorted his reproachful words with nothing but a smile, a smile that was hazed by coy resentment, yet a smile no less.

"What? Me being so kind to ya? 'Cause the boss said to."

"But you're doing more than that, aren't you?" Ciel interjected with an undertone ravished by severity. "I got the impression that you weren't supposed to be feeding me, so why are you? Surely, you would get into quite some trouble, if Porter were to find out."

"'Cause you're a lass, and a knocked up one at that," the man declared with a chuckle, scrutinising Ciel's appearance with clement, silvery eyes. "As much as I owe Porter, I don't exactly agree with him treating lasses poorly, especially young, pretty ones like yourself."

A revolted jitter overwhelmed Ciel for a moment. With his gaze growing narrow in contempt, he gritted out, "So if I was just a boy, as you originally suspected, than you would treat me differently?"

The man was required to ponder upon this for a moment, combing a finger over the dark stubble of his chin in contemplation before replying. "Well, I still didn't like the idea of Porter hurting a child, but still; lasses are a lot frailer than gents. Gents can hold their own, but it's the lasses that need looking after, and it would be quite disrespectful of me to not take care of a lass in need, even if she ain't my responsibility."

With this, the man stood, but leaned forwards a little and cupped Ciel's jaw in his grasp, fixing Ciel with a gaze bleeding with reassurance, reassurance that Ciel could not bring himself to accept.

"Don't worry yourself too much, poppet. I'll be back in a couple of hours to check up on ya again. I might even bring some gauze for your wrists, if I can find any. Just rest easy, okay?"

Ciel did not say a word, but wrenched his head free of the man's grip, his civility as cold as the dusk gale that snaked its way into the chamber, chilling him to his core. In answer to this, the man fled the room, leaving Ciel once again by himself.

Now in crippling solitude, Ciel inhaled with incredible energy, as though attempting to draw his entire emotional being into himself. A whisper slinked out of him, so faint that it could barely be considered audible, and yet Ciel knew it would be all he truly needed.

"Sebastian, this is an order... Find me as soon as you can and make sure to kill anyone who is involved with my capture... Is that understood?"

With that, Ciel slumped a little in his chair, his limbs weary with exhaustion. He knew he would not receive any form of reply, so for now, hope that his message had reached its destination would have to be enough...


	19. Chapter 19

_**To Be a Mother - Chapter Nineteen**_

Night evanesced as hurriedly as a tethered bird struggling through a river of tar. With the dawn, Ciel stirred entirely unrested, a piercing crick residing within the springs of his taut neck and a biting sting riling inside his dry, heavy eyes. During the evening's monotonous hours, Porter's crony had taken it upon himself to visit him at least a dozen times, releasing him for fleeting bathroom reprieves and water replenishments. The man had attempted on numerous occasions to introduce conversation to the routine, yet Ciel was not so easily persuaded, nor willing to participate.

"So, who took advantage of ya?" the man had casually inquired just as Ciel was on the verge of inhaling his final gulp of water.

In result, the water was sent flying across the room, vacating Ciel's mouth in a rather graceless spray. He spluttered, ragged gasps filling his lungs.

"Wha -!" the man started with a cry, hardly managing to dodge the spurt of liquid. In rapid concession to this, he materialised the handkerchief that he had exploited earlier and quickly moped up the spittle from around Ciel's quivering lips, hushing benevolently, "Easy, lass. Easy..."

Ciel took quite a moment to recover, but once he had, his whole frame was flaming with colour, savage breaths flushing out of him as he roared, "And what on earth gave you that idea?!"

"I'm only asking," the man defended in a simpering tone, his arms raising in surrender. "I mean, a young noble lass like you, with a bun in the oven, especially when you ain't married. I just assumed..."

A rumble shredded at Ciel's throat. "Well then don't!" Ciel snapped in a voice as jarring as sandpaper, his shoulders quaking with rage. "You have no business doing so!"

With this, Ciel bowed his head, his only place to hide as tears, unbidden and completely unnecessary made a nuisance of themselves within his blazing eyes. His emotions had unexpectedly fluxed within his heart, pouring forth like a spewing river of toxic waste and he, in such a despicable state, had no possible hope of reining them back in. What an awful time for this to occur! At the time in which his resolve was so vital in his quest to remain entirely unaffected and calm in a predicament such as this, it, of course, just had to fracture.

In truth, he had been the victim. The victim of a demon's secrets. The victim of a demon's lies. And he'd been taken advantage of through those horrid secrets, those horrid lies. They had infected him, gotten beneath his skin in a way he could never of possibly anticipated. And now, he was paying the ultimate price. That damn, bastard of a demon... It was all his blasted fault...his bloody, bloody fault...

But Ciel did not speak that aloud. He would not dare.

He instead gnashed his chattering teeth together and blinked with vigour, blatantly refusing for even a heartbeat to let those tears spill, listening spitefully as the man said no more and retreated from the room.

Despite this unforgivable wrinkle, the man had done nothing else to warrant Ciel's blood to rise. He'd even remained honest in his promise, retrieving bandages for Ciel's mangled wrists and kindly wrapping up the torn and bleeding skin so as to not mar it further with the grating edge of the ropes. Ciel thought to even ask the man to relieve him of his boots, as his ankles had grown so boneless within the constricting leather that he'd lost all feeling within his toes. Yet, in the end, he took no action on that thought, for he had no intention of admitting such weakness, especially after what the man had suggested earlier. Also, another reason for his reluctance - a rather humiliating reason if he did say so himself - was that he feared that if his boots were removed, he surely would not be able to put them back on again.

With the sun's flaccid rays now gradually leaking through the small creases of his confinement, Ciel had begun to take notice of the clumsy footfalls sounding through the crude din. They were a set of three; Ciel came rather skilfully to the conclusion that Porter was returning to see whether a night of uncomfortable solitude had weathered away the Earl's - or _Lady's_ \- resilience. Unfortunately, for dear Mr Porter, the _Lady_ hadn't been fairing as uncomfortably as what he believed.

The echoing of soles upon cobblestone escalated until it came to a strained pause just outside the dwellings of the shed in which Ciel was contained. With the yowling of a hinge, Ciel flinched in marginal discontentment as the door was slammed open and Porter flounced his way into the space, the scraggly frays of his trench coat shifting behind him. His two cronies followed suit, revolvers twitching in their grasps. Ciel immediately felt poorly at the sight of Porter, his callous emerald eyes slicing through the shadows, pawing over Ciel like greasy fingers impressing themselves upon his entire body. Ciel recollected the disgusting sensation of Porter's hands gliding over the whole circumference of his abdomen and Ciel could barely suppress a shudder.

From the pale dimness of the room, Porter emerged, once again taking it upon himself to saunter so near to Ciel that his clammy, tobacco-riddled breath painted an awful streak of heat upon Ciel's cringing cheek. He smirked tauntingly, revelling in the boy's obvious revulsion as he leered, "Well, hello there, Little Phantom'ive! Have a good sleep, did yee?"

"It could've been better," Ciel droned, feigning disinterest. Yet then, he could not help but grin contemptuously, turning a secretive eye upon the crony to his right - the kindly man that had been serving him all night long - and produced the slightest of winks. "Although, I do appreciate the attempts at hospitality."

An irked twitch rumpled Porter's slashing eyebrow and internally, Ciel sniggered, aware of the frustration he must've been inflicting upon his captor. It was a dangerous move, he knew, and yet Ciel felt no fear. After all, he had ordered Sebastian to find him as soon as possible, and surely, the butler would not be so incompetent as to leave him hanging for much longer.

Porter quickly concealed his annoyance behind another of his unholy chortles, throwing his head back and cackling as though Ciel's voice was the most humorous sound he'd ever had the privilege of hearing.

However, the deplorable man sobered with commendable speed, his laughter ceasing so abruptly it was as though the sound had been cut short by the blade of a dagger. Instead, he bent forward to the point in which he was so close that Ciel could feel his beak-like nose brushing against the shell of his ear. And as Porter spoke, his tone was revoltingly sensual, and his breath gushed hot over Ciel's skin, causing bile to simmer most odiously within Ciel's knotted gut.

"So then, Earl Phantom'ive - oh! I apologise. I meant _Lady_ Phantom'ive. Have you decided?"

Ciel knew that this was a plot to faze him, and it was exceeding with great splendour. But he would not give Porter the satisfaction of knowing, not even as ghastly memories bubbled up from the apse of his past and settled within his mind, threatening to blind him with their vividness and intensity. He gulped in earnest, his mouth dry, his throat severely parched. Still, as Porter's breath ghosted over his cheek again, more pressing, more intentional, Ciel suppressed his trembles with an unknown determination that mildly surprised him with its abrupt existence, and instead replied with such resolution, it was as though he had never been shaken at all.

"I apologise, Mr Porter, but my decision has not changed from yesterday. I have no intention of handing any form of 'compensation' over to you. Especially when it isn't deserved."

For an untimely moment, all was motionless. And yet, before a single warning even had the chance to weasel its way out into the air, bony knuckles hurtled into Ciel's jaw, sweeping across his face so ruthlessly that his cheek appeared to be nothing but a feather-filled pillow to the eyes of the fist's owner. The impact was so inducing that the entire gravity of Ciel's body was thrown sideways, sending him falling, the chair hopelessly following suit, until finally his frame became thoroughly introduced to the dirt-packed ground with the most gut-wrenching of crashes.

Ciel barely was given the opportunity to recover before a booted heel began to stab unrequitedly into the delicate bulge of his abdomen, the suddenness of the attack sending all of his breath gushing out of him. The attack was so merciless that after the eighth strike, blood arose from Ciel's deepest depths and painted his lips a dazzling rouge. By the tenth strike, even a yowl managed to rip free.

Porter's voice gave way to only thunderous agitation as he spoke again, his jarring tone splitting Ciel's ears as he shouted, "Oh, yee wanna play, do yee, Phantom'ive?! Well then, I'll show yee what it means ta bloody play!"

And with a mordant toe to the temple, Ciel was sent retreating inwards to a void of scarlet and blinding white. Every limb of his body coiled with tension before a blackness oozed over his senses and silence mercifully swallowed him…

 **XXX**

 **Mailbox:**

 ** _ChlomeTov: Haha, I know! I couldn't stop laughing when the idea popped into my head! I'm glad I'm keeping you on the edge of your seat. It's what I've been aiming for, so if I'm managing to do that, than I am super happy! Thank you for always reading and reviewing! It gives me such joy!_**

 ** _promocat: Yes. It's nice to think that in the most uncomfortable and hostile circumstances that you'll still find some one willing to help out. Thank you for always being a continuous reader of this story! I really appreciate it._**

 ** _MassiveMilkshakeNerd: Yes, he has unfortunately. I think it's the custom of being Ciel Phantomhive. I'm glad you agree and I'm glad you're excited! I hope I will be able to meet - and maybe even exceed - your expectations. I really love it too! Sebastian's catchphrase is one of my favourite parts of the whole show and I love using it during my stories - at the right time, of course. And don't worry; saying it twice only humbles me all the more. Thank you for your continued support!_**

 ** _James Birdsong: I'm glad you've enjoyed the story so far! Thank you for reading and reviewing!_**

 **I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!**

 **HeartElyse**


	20. Chapter 20

**Hey guys!**

 **I have some exciting news! It has now been officially a year since I first watched 'Black Butler'! I swear, this is the longest I've ever been obsessed with something before and I am truly happy that I still love it so much. It has really transformed my life! So, to celebrate, I've written a little story called 'Fly On', which I shall be publishing very soon if any of you are interested in taking a look. I am also celebrating by giving you guys another chapter of 'To Be a Mother'. Thank you to all those who are still reading this story; I hope it has been to your liking so far!**

 **Now, time for Mailbox:**

 ** _ChlomeTov: Yes, I'm hoping the baby will be okay too! Thank you always for your comments!_**

 ** _promocat: Yes, me too!_**

 **Now, onto the story!**

 **HeartElyse**

 **XXX**

 _ **To Be a Mother - Chapter Twenty**_

Unconsciousness was an incredibly strenuous spell to break. It took an unimaginable amount of persuasion to free oneself from the numbing fog of darkness and climb painfully back upwards into reality, whatever reality that may so happen to be. This was especially so when one did not desire to be free, particularly when the anguish of reality was so knackering that one found the passive silence to be a far better option.

And yet, as soon as that soft, but abrasive voice began to weave and thread itself through the haze of Ciel's mind, goading him to wakefulness, Ciel realised that he no longer had a choice. With the voice came an ache that pulsed through him in the same manner as his very own heartbeat, singeing his fibres, making his skin and bones tender to the touch. His senses were smeared with copper and iron, the taste and smell of blood. And through it all, he could feel a frantic nausea clawing at his stomach, demanding his attention.

He knew that from the moment he was vaguely conscious that something was not right with how he felt, and with just the thought, such a panic congealed inside of him that his veins chilled. He did not understand the fret; it seemed so irrational when he'd hated his condition from the second that it'd made itself known. But now that it was under threat, it was almost instinct.

He tried to shift, to move, but the very action made his limbs twinge and he whimpered before he could even stop himself.

"Easy there, lass," that same gruff voice cooed from just above Ciel's head, and Ciel felt a palm gently cup his shoulder. "It's best to not hurt yourself anymore, ya see?"

Opening his eyes felt like parting glue, but once Ciel managed to, all he could see was a blurred face masked in evening shadows and the flaming wick of a candle. Yet from the tone of voice, Ciel could easily conclude that the face belonged to none other than the more kindly of Porter's cronies, the man that had been caring for him the night before.

He also became aware of the fact that he was still lying on the floor where the attack had subsequently left him, with his chair overturned and himself helplessly bound to it. He did not mind being on the floor though, as it seemed to steady the nausea that was swirling in his stomach and alleviated the pressure on his bladder, not that he should be concerned about that. He had not tasted water in many hours now, if the slivers of moonlight creeping into his confinement were anything to go by. He also had not eaten since the previous evening, which explained the queasiness - at least he hoped it did.

"Now, I'm not supposed to move ya," the man continued, his voice reduced to a whisper, as though he feared being overheard. "I'm not supposed to give ya anything to drink either, but what Porter doesn't know won't hurt him."

The hand on Ciel's shoulder moved to the nape of his neck, and cradling it, the man carefully parted Ciel's rust-covered lips and began to tip water down his throat. Ciel tried to swallow it at the same pace that it was being poured, but Ciel found that his throat seemed to be disregarding the wishes of his brain and ended up spluttering out more water than what was actually coming in. Still, some of it managed to remain down, and for now, that much would just have to sate him.

Once empty, the pannikin was pulled away and the fingers holding his head level cautiously released him, leaving his skull to rest completely boneless against the grime-coated ground. It was not at all pleasant, but he was too weak to care.

The man slouched back slightly, observing him with ashen eyes riddled with concern. Although his company was not terrible to endure and Ciel was appreciative of his hospitality, Ciel simply wanted to be left to sleep in peace. But as he opened his mouth to dismiss the ungracious gentleman, only a broken moan escaped.

The man's irises flashed with pity and beneath the skin, Ciel fumed. He did not want the man's sympathy.

"I never told ya me name, did I?" the man inquired, as though Ciel had showed some kind of interest. "It's Tim. Timothy Bennett, at ya service."

Ciel wasn't exactly sure what he was after; a "Nice to meet you" perhaps? He also couldn't really fathom why this man was deliberately defying Porter when he worked for the man. But Ciel decided not to think on that and instead gave a curt nod before slipping his eyes shut, hoping that the act would get his message across. It did, and within a few minutes, Ciel heard Tim - as he'd introduced - stand and retreat from the room.

In all honesty, he'd never asked for the man's name because it would've made it far less burdensome on Ciel's conscience to have delivered his demise without ever knowing it. He guessed it no longer mattered...

Internally, Ciel breathed a sigh. Sebastian was taking far too long to find him...

XXX

The grating shriek of oxidised metal scraping against oxidised metal was what stirred Ciel from his fitful slumber. The night's gloom still clung to the walls of the room, indicating that day was still yet to come. Yet, as the rusted door of his imprisonment slammed open and murky figures ghosted into the room, with candles flickering in their wake, Ciel could not help put long for the complete darkness. He did not at all feel resolved enough to face Porter once again.

But Porter seemed very ready to face him. He sauntered towards Ciel like a man who had the entire world in his spidery grasp and took his sweet time as he kneeled down by Ciel's crippled side, ogling at him like a feral dog that had just spotted a poorly kitten. Ciel was spited by his presence, seeing how his narrowed emerald gaze was bathed in greed; it revolted Ciel to no end.

"Yee know, Phantom'ive," the vulture husked in a voice that was far from decent and Ciel felt his insides immediately convulse as an uninvited hand curled harshly over his covered abdomen. "I'm gettin' a wee bit impatient with yee. So, I thought that since yee ain't bulking, I might just go and check a few things, just ta make sure I ain't tellin' no fibs ta the press. I'm sure you'll understand."

The gangly fingers twitched and then crawled downwards, making Ciel's lungs fill with apprehension, uncertainty rattling the very roots of his mind. The fingers hooked upon the hem of Ciel's tarnished pants, gripping the fabric with a lewd urgency, and Porter's intentions became very clear. It was simply too obvious what Porter was going to check. And the horror of this realisation made Ciel go completely over the edge.

The agony that his body suffered was somewhat drowned out by the irrepressible trepidation that surged through him, freezing his blood and making him squirm as desperately as he could with how his limbs were tethered unrelentingly to his seat, causing it to be near impossible to move.

"NO!" he bellowed, his voice splitting in two with the intensity of it. "DON'T -!"

An unforgiving palm pressed down over his mouth, instantly stubbing out his earnest cries. Porter leaned forward so that his features swam in Ciel's vision. His vile breath dampened Ciel's cheek as he sniggered horribly, his smirk wreathed by sickening amusement.

"Now, now, no need to panic, Little Phantom'ive. I'm just takin' a wee look."

Petrified tears arose in Ciel's equally petrified eyes. As he felt the groping fingers slink underneath the hem, a phantom of uncontrollable memory - dancing with manic waves of unshakable terror - flooded over his muddled sight, making him keen.

It was going to happen again. And just like the last time, he'd be forced to endure it, defenceless, unable to prevent it. There was no hope left. For the first time, Sebastian was too late...

A dying of candles and a rendering of metal was what halted the fingers in their tracks and caused them to withdraw. Amidst the veil of pure darkness, the sounds of agonised screams and awful gurgling reined supreme. Porter's presence was replaced by warm, inky red that splattered across Ciel cheek like paint. Something absolutely monstrous was shredding the bodies of his captors to pieces, but Ciel had been so drunk with fear that he could not appreciate the satisfaction of hearing their death throws.

With one final crunch, silence once again took the throne, and flicking his quavering gaze upwards, Ciel was astonished to witness the glowing claret eyes of his demon butler glittering down upon him, his ebony and ivory hues defined perfectly in Ciel's watery vision.

"It seems I arrived just on time, my Lord," eased the velvety tones of Sebastian's voice, laced with amusement.

Those words made Ciel's gut explode with such a rage that, combined with his fright, made him lose the handle over his mind entirely.

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Ciel shrieked, his features deathly-pale with fury. "YOU ARE BLOODY LATE! YOU BETTER BLOODY EXPLAIN YOURSELF, SEBASTIAN, BEFORE I...! Before I..."

Perhaps the excitement had become too much, or perhaps there was something terribly wrong, because before Ciel could even finish yowling at his butler, his visible eye rolled backwards into his skull and he succumbed to exhaustion, or maybe something far worse...


	21. Chapter 21

**Hey guys!**

 **I was planning to post this chapter earlier, but I was having some technical difficulties. It is a bit short, but I should have another chapter posted soon!**

 **Now, time for Mailbox:**

 ** _MassiveMilkshakeNerd: Yes, I kind of do take joy in leaving my readers hanging; I guess it's all part of the fun and what helps build the suspense. But than again, I don't know why I do it, because I always hate it when it's the other way round, and I'm the one reading and the writer's left me hanging. I guess it's just payback. And thank you! I don't think I'll ever get sick of it, at least not anytime soon!_**

 ** _Kate: I know! He was taking forever! As for Ciel and the baby, you'll just have to see :) Thanks for reading!_**

 ** _James Birdsong: Again, thank you very much!_**

 ** _ChlomeTov: I know right! And I just couldn't help myself when it came down to Ciel and his little baby. Even if he doesn't want to care about it, his instincts are going to make him, even just the slightest bit. I'm glad you're enjoying it so far and I hope this meets your expectations as a 'quick' update :)_**

 ** _promocat: Yes, I agree! He really did take his time!_**

 **Now, please enjoy!**

 **HeartElyse**

 **XXX**

 _ **To Be a Mother - Chapter Twenty-One**_

Sebastian raced back to the mansion in the time that was often required to exhale a mere breath. He cradled his Lord tentatively in his arms, a superficial foreboding swallowing his gut as he observed how the rusted blood and obsidian bruises blossomed over the boy's skin. He had never anticipated he'd be so late in finding his Lord; he'd had to completely unravel the entire manor in order to get his hands upon the clues required to pinpoint the child's location. He almost believed that the inferno that had engulfed the manor four years ago had gnawed all the hidden truths away. But now he realised he'd been far too late, and inspired by that fact, Sebastian wasted no time in bursting through the front double doors of the manor and striding inside.

Mey-Rin, who'd been precariously dusting a flower-embellished vase in the entrance hall, started at the sight of Sebastian, subsequently knocking the vase off its mantle, sending it falling and shattering against the checkered floor.

Immediately, the clumsy maid began to perform her usual tango of apologies and excuses, squabbling and weeping amidst her foolishness. But Sebastian raised a fluid hand, not having a moment to spare for her sobbing declaration. The action immediately drew her to silence, much to Sebastian's pleasure.

Facing her with an impassive, unwavering glare, Sebastian simply stated, "There is no time for that, Mey-Rin. I need you to call Dr Marat. Tell him that I apologise for the late hour, but it is an emergency. The Young Master is not well."

With the serious order, Mey-Rin immediately sobered, her tears instantly drying up, her chocolate eyes flaring with worry for her master as she obliged with a "Yes, of course, Sebastian," before she curled her fists around her many skirts and dashed away towards the nearest telephone.

With that out of the way, Sebastian carried his Lord up to his room without any further interruptions. Upon arriving at the master's chambers, Sebastian stepped over the threshold and carefully eased the boy down into the doughy sheets of the bed, allowing the child's aggrieved head to loll comfortably back into the pillows behind it.

Leaving his Lord's vulnerable side for barely a heartbeat, he returned with a small basin of lukewarm water and a rag to assist in wiping the dirt and grime from the boy's withered body.

As he cautiously began to peel away the child's soiled clothing, Sebastian could not prevent himself from pondering on the condition of the baby, and his Lord. It had been clear upon witnessing his master that he'd taken several hits to the abdomen, as well as the skull, which could have catastrophic effects on both his Lord and the life that of which was growing rather eagerly inside him. Although the boy may disagree, losing the baby at this point of the pregnancy was not ideal, and was in fact very risky, a risk that Sebastian feared could not be afforded when his Lord was so young - and more importantly, when their contract was yet to be fulfilled.

However, as Sebastian finally stripped the last of the boy's attire - bar his undergarments - and took in the entire view of his Lord, something quite mystifying snagged his attention...

The ringing of a door banging open and the sound of Finny's pitched voice flittered about the room.

"Mr Sebastian! Is there anything that I..."

But Finny's voice trickled away into an aghast silence, and Sebastian could only conclude that the gardener had seen as well.

To put it plainly, the Young Master had developed breasts...


	22. Chapter 22

**Hey guys!**

 **Here's the next chapter for you! Unfortunately, I don't really have time to reply to your reviews this time around, but I do highly appreciate them! Make sure to keep reviewing; I promise to do a Mailbox next time. I know most of you were quite intrigued by the latest development in the plot, so I won't say anymore.**

 **I hope you enjoy it!**

 **HeartElyse**

 **XXX**

 _ **To Be a Mother - Chapter Twenty-Two**_

"Well, this is quite fascinating indeed."

The room was holding its breath. Although it was an understatement to say that the master's chamber was quite large, it now felt too small to retain the apprehension that was permeating through it. The concern in the air was in fact so potent that it almost smothered Sebastian's palette entirely.

For the gruellingly long minutes of an hour - although to the demon, it seemed no time at all - Dr Marat had been conducting a thorough examination of the Young Master's body, a body that was still yet to stir, much to the fret of the boy's attentive servants. The said servants had been unyielding in the desire to remain by the Young Lord's side, even after Sebastian had refused them on numerous occasions. Eventually, Sebastian had simply calculated that he could no longer spare the time, and allowed them access to the room without any further hassle.

They now all stood in a line by the edge of the room, obscured by the dense shadows created by the candles now providing essence to the night. Finny appeared on the brink of tears as he fidgeted about in his place, the rustling of his clothes filling Sebastian with an irritation that he could not resist. Mey-Rin was simply chewing fervently at the inside of her cheek, as though her life was depending on it. Bard was stationed almost in the same fashion as a soldier during roll call, his hands resolutely by his back and his head reared high; Sebastian had come to classify the stance as a habit the cook would relapse to during moments of great uncertainty. Snake was as stoic as ever, his wide, electric-hued eyes the only indicator that he was frightened for the master's wellbeing. And Tanaka stood in a manner that expressed every piece of the Steward he was, except for the somber grimace that made the creases of his face all the more defined.

Now that the juncture had passed and his Lord had been extensively cleaned, it was far easier for Sebastian to decipher how profoundly the boy had been damaged. If the blackish marks and swelling welts that littered his porcelain skin were not enough to indicate a savage beating, than the demon was quite thoroughly confounded. And the fact that the blemishes were mostly concentrated around his abdomen and face suggested that his captors had no regard for the unborn child or his Master's beauty. What a pity, really.

Still, if Sebastian channelled his diabolic senses to a considerable degree, he could still feel life residing in the boy, a relief and yet also a curse.

His Lord appeared rather vulnerable beneath the assessing hands of the doctor, unconscious as he was and unable to defend himself, with his body fractured by wounds. Sebastian couldn't decide whether or not he was amused or revolted.

But, in spite of it all, Sebastian could not stop himself from being very much bemused.

The butler's attention shifted as Dr Marat straightened, the ceramic cone he'd been using to listen to the offspring's heartbeat and movements still poised in his steady hand. On close observation, Sebastian could see how the confusion had made the man's body very much rigid as he slowly turned to Sebastian, gaze quizzical.

"The child seems quite alright," the doctor announced, an awkward note to his placid voice as he rocked from foot to foot. "Although the bruising is quite severe, nothing appears to be broken or badly damaged. All I'd be concerned about is making sure the Earl eats as soon as he's able, as the lack of sustenance may soon effect the child's development in the womb. Also, keep the Earl resting for the next few days, preferably lying down, in order to reduce the swelling in his ankles."

A sigh of relief was not passed. The room was still riddled with stifling tension, waiting. Dr Marat appeared to understand what this feeling of waiting eluded to, and before Sebastian had the chance to ask himself, the man tersely cleared his throat, daring to speak again.

"As for the Earl Phantomhive's more feminine features - as in the slight growth of breasts and the widening of the hips - I would say that they are mere preparation for the birth and beyond." With a nervous chuckle, Marat added, "Rest assured, however. He is still very much male."

The sigh was finally unleashed, the tension evaporating as easily as steam floating away. Even Sebastian could not deny that he himself had been pacified by the notion. Although he had heard of the symptoms occurring in male bearers before, he'd also been informed that the symptoms were still quite rare. The differences in his Master's appearance would not be all that alluring or obvious beneath clothing, especially when the physicality of the boy's general condition bombarded all else.

Still, Sebastian was greatly unnerved by the thought of the child's reaction when he awoke to his new reality...

XXX

Ciel was arisen to the ultimate feeling of sluggishness and pain. The pain was dull, distant, and yet consumed his every fibre in one constant, burning throb. He did not desire to move, or open his eyes - maybe he'd simply allow himself to sink back into unconsciousness. But a disturbance that had shrunk back into the many furls of his mind was making itself known once more - that something being wrong, that something not being right - and his blood ran incredibly cold.

With a jolt, Ciel's eyes burst wide and he reared upwards from where he lay, only to collapse back downwards into the comforting mattress below with an anguished cry. He shook against the onslaught of unexpected agony, gasps eclipsing haggardly from his lips and his eyes flinching shut.

After a moment, when he had the courage to dare look again, a face of chiseled ivory swarmed his vision, with eyes two slits of cool rust - Sebastian.

"Are you alright, my Lord?" the demon asked, his tone unusually blank, setting Ciel's nerves on edge. Something about the way he was kneeling by his side was all too familiar...

So, mostly in anxiety, Ciel did not grace the question with an answer and instead allowed his slightly muzzy gaze to wander the room. It was his bedchambers, in all its indigo and navy, wreathed in the warm lights of the early morning. He was back home, finally, wrapped snugly in the sheets of his bed and completely safe from those horrid, groping hands, their owners smothered by death, never to touch him again. He would have let himself relax at the thought, if panic wasn't still tugging at him.

"Young Master, the child is in good health, if you are concerned. Perhaps you are hungry, my Lord? I could start the preparations for breakfast. Or perhaps a cup of tea can suffice for now. Is Earl Grey to your liking?"

It was almost as though Sebastian was trying to redirect his attention elsewhere. Ciel did not like it in the least.

Ciel could feel that all he was wearing were his undergarments, which was odd, for Sebastian never took the liberty of leaving him entirely unclad. He looked down at himself, as if to somehow make sure that what he was feeling was correct.

Every limb of his body seized. He froze completely.

"My Lord?"

For the longest time, he could not unhinge his gaze. It was too shocking, too horrifying to even fathom...

Firm hands gripping his shoulders in a vice suddenly jerked him free of his trance, but the nightmare was not yet over. He found that perfectly carved face - Sebastian's face - and stared at it as if oblivion surely awaited him if he dared look away.

"Do not be concerned, Master," Sebastian murmured in a tone abnormally kind, as though speaking to a sickly creature teetering on the edge of its demise. "Although the symptoms are rare, it is completely normal. It is all preparation. It is a sign that you will be a most efficient mother."

The words would not register at first, oozing through his ears like chilled honey. But once they had, a rage so immense began to boil beneath his skin that he feared his frail body would not contain it.

Ciel dipped his head low, his fringe serving as a curtain over his ashen features, the show over, the actor completely undone.

"S-Sebastian," he growled softly, his voice quavering with the spasms that jittered throughout his frame. "Get out."

"But, Young Master -"

The little patience he had snapped.

"I SAID GET OUT!"

With hesitation, the hands fell away from his shoulders, and with a swishing of coat tails and syrup-like fluidity of footsteps, the butler retreated from the room.

And almost immediately upon his exit, Ciel felt tears froth in his eyes. He did not even attempt to suppress them. There was no one to hide them from.

With quivering hands, he reached up and cupped the insignificant bulges in his fingers, and instantly shuddered. They were tender to the touch - as though the skin had been horribly stretched against its will, which was, in a way, exactly what had happened.

The very sight sickened him to the point that he would have vomited, if he hadn't been so hollow. So instead, he sobbed, in a crazed frenzy, unable to escape the horror that his body was no longer his own...


	23. Chapter 23

_**To Be a Mother - Chapter Twenty-Three**_

For the entire duration of the day, the Young Master had denied anyone who dared ask for access into his chambers. Now with the light dwindling precariously into darkness, Sebastian was anxious - truthfully anxious, to the demon's irk and amusement. He paced before his Lord's double doors, the boy's questionable wellbeing gnawing at the forefront of his conscience. He genuinely believed the child would be more rational about the circumstances, but it was now crystal clear that he'd quite perversely misjudged the circumstances in the eyes of his master. And perhaps he shouldn't have even bothered; his Lord had become so fickle these passed months that reading him was something that Sebastian could no longer do.

So when the doors creaked open without warning and the Earl staggered out from behind them, Sebastian could not defuse his bafflement quickly enough. He appeared incredibly pained, with his cheeks absent of blood, his body hunched slightly forward and his legs jittering so much that they looked ready to collapse with the strain. His eyes - both eyes - were raw with spilt tears, but now, as Sebastian ogled at him, taking every significant detail to heart, he realised that they were smouldering. And as he brushed his acute gaze over the boy's shoulders, he discovered that it was not weariness that shook them, but utter and unquenchable rage.

"My Lord?" Sebastian inquired, most intrigued by the child's actions.

"J-just the _fiend_ I-I wanted to see," his Lord snarled with savage desperation, his voice wavering with anguish. The use of the word 'fiend' made Sebastian internally wince, in fear that another might overhear. "I-I need to talk to you. _Now_."

Sebastian sauntered forward, intending to lead his indisposed Master back to his perfectly adequate bed, as the doctor had directed. "Very well, my Lord. But let's return to your room, where you can rest, Sir."

And yet, as Sebastian twisted a gloved hand around the child's back, it was ruthlessly battered away. The motion itself made whatever control the boy'd been harbouring snap into a million splinters.

"Don't you dare touch me, demon!"

The thunderous cry caused Sebastian's angular glare to flame a dangerous scarlet.

"Do be quiet, my Lord."

The palm collided with Sebastian's face before he had the opportunity to comprehend it. He allowed his master to feel the satisfaction of the blow, letting it ghost over his cheek with no significant repercussions.

As he swerved his head back round, Sebastian found the boy infringing upon his space, his shuddering fists grappling at Sebastian's coat, his features so contorted and his eyes so maddened that Sebastian was almost certain that his Lord had been completely driven over the rails by this new development. Sebastian could taste the disturbia writhing upon his palette, and it was not a pleasant taste.

Scalding tears began to leak down the boy's blanched face, and Sebastian might've pitied him, if he'd known how.

"You bastard," the boy lashed out in a voice so overcome by emotion that had Sebastian not of had heightened hearing, he might not have understood. "This... E-everything!... It's all your bloody fault!..."

The child swallowed thickly, as if a bout of nausea had flawed him. But after a few short, recovering moment, he pressed on.

"If this is your idea of some sick game...than I...than I won't let you win... Because I won't let it happen... I won't! I won't! I WON'T!... It won't happen... It _can't_... I won't let..."

Perhaps it was the exertion his Lord was forcing himself through, or how severe his hysterics had become, for the boy's voice rapidly abandoned him and Sebastian could only catch the fragile child in his arms as he tipped forward, his eyes drifting back into his skull and his body going entirely flaccid. Maybe the boy just enjoyed being unconscious; perhaps the oblivion was easier to bear.

Sebastian did not take action straight away, but mulled over his Lord's words. He did not smirk when it transcended in his mind what the child was implying.

"I'm sorry, Master," Sebastian murmured softly into the lonely din. "But I'm afraid it is far too late to stop it now..."

 **XXX**

 **Hey guys!**

 **I'm sorry for the slight delay in posts. The only excuse I really have is that I forgot! Hopefully this chapter has proven itself worthy of your forgiveness.**

 **Now, to the Mailbox!**

 ** _James Birdsong: Again, thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far!_**

 ** _ChlomeTov: I'm glad it gave you a nice surprise! As always, thank you so much for reading! It's great to hear how much you're enjoying the story!_**

 ** _Promocat: Let's hope Ciel does, for his sake. Thanks so much for reading!_**

 ** _MassiveMilkshakeNerd: Yes, I know. I have a love/hate relationship with this; I hate doing this stuff to Ciel, but I also can't help but love it! Thank you so much! Your comments are always so appreciated!_**

 **Thank you all for reading! Until next time!**

 **HeartElyse**


	24. Chapter 24

**_To Be a Mother - Chapter Twenty-Four_**

Ciel stood adrift in a chasm of impenetrable nothingness, his vision swarmed by a sea of black. With it hung the chill of death, making his bones seize with the frigidness. He desperately wished for escape, for fear that his heart would rupture beneath the panic of being in such a frightening place. But it was impossible with this unflappable darkness swallowing him whole; he did not know which direction to run, or where to find refuge. So he did nothing but remain frozen to his place, gruelling anticipation surging through him, making him shudder.

"My dearest Ciel, do not be afraid..."

Ciel felt his heart flatline. That voice. It slipped into his ears in the same manner as silk slipping over skin, delighting the flesh beneath. Each note, each key rung with familiarity, and that familiarity embraced him just as tightly and consolingly as the arms he could still remember so well.

"Mother?" he choked out into the din, his tone suffocated by emotions he could not contain.

"It shall be alright, Ciel. Trust your body. Trust your instincts. That's what my sister...what Aunt Anne always told me..."

Ciel tossed his head, trying to pinpoint where the voice was resonating from, but by God, he could not see a thing.

"But Mother!" he cried out with an urgent sob. "Where...where even are you?"

A delicate purr fluttered in the inky distance. "But I'm alway with you, Ciel... I never left..."

"Wait! I don't understand! Please explain!"

Reaching out a hand, Ciel took a step forwards, and as if the action had somehow dislodged him from whatever was keeping him tethered to the dream, he plummeted back into wakefulness, his eyes exploding open and his frame jolting against the mattress that had abruptly materialised underneath him.

And before he could even begin to dissect the vision he'd just experienced, the fragments began to fade from his memory, like water seeping through fingers...

XXX

With the unsavoury happenings of the fifth month of pregnancy, Sebastian found himself to be more at ease when the sixth month eventually arrived.

By this time, Dr Marat was scheduled to be at the mansion frequently, visiting at least once weekly to be positive that the developments of the foetus were running smoothly. The Doctor had been highly satisfied by the Young Lord's physical wellbeing, and had mentioned so on several occasions. However, when Sebastian took it upon himself to quietly discuss the irrationality of the Earl's demeanour, Marat's spirits were dampened somewhat.

"Anxiety and irrationality can sometimes be a symptom, mostly due to hormone fluxes than anything else. But it sounds as though the Earl's irrationality may even be bordering on panic, which can makes the situation a lot harder for all those involved, including the Earl himself. I suggest you take any means necessary to keep him calm, and try to reassure him. Childbirth is a risky business, there is no denying that. But he is in good hands."

Sebastian did attempt to keep these words in mind. However, he did not believe there were any other means that he could take to ensure his Master's peace, for the boy seemed to battling with a phantom that was far too complex for the demon to understand or even see himself. And with the child's stubbornness to comply, it was beyond impossible.

However, one improvement had been that his Lord was no longer refusing to sleep on his side, but was welcoming the new position like an old friend. Sebastian could only assume that lying on his back had become too agonising to be worth the defiance.

The boy had begun to waddle about the manor, the enlargement of his abdomen clearly making him uncomfortable and making it extremely difficult to walk with ceremony. The irate expression constantly cleaving his features made it very obvious that he was not at all amused by it either.

He'd also started to receive quite inducing muscle spasms, particularly in his shins and lower ligaments. Dr Marat had stated that that was to be expected, but it did not assist in heightening his Lord's spirits in the least. One evening, when it was especially horrible, to the stage in which the child could not drift to sleep, Sebastian knelt down by his frustrated Master's side and inquired gently, "Would it make you more comfortable, my Lord, if I massaged the muscles for you? I have heard that it can help."

Sebastian was ridiculously astounded when his Lord accepted the invitation almost immediately - and exasperatedly, he should add.

It was all very baffling, indeed...

 **XXX**

 **Hey guys!**

 **Sorry for the delay again. My writing has gone a bit stale recently, so I'm trying to find ways to improve that. I've also been thinking about the future of this story, and where I want it to go. Nothing is decided yet, so I won't give anything away at the moment.**

 **Now, mailbox:**

 ** _James Birdsong - Thanks for the review, and thanks for reading!_**

 ** _Promocat - Yes, let's just hope Ciel does have the strength! Thanks for reading!_**

 **As always, thank you all so much, and I hoped you enjoyed the chapter!**

 **HeartElyse**


	25. Chapter 25

_**To Be a Mother - Chapter Twenty-Five**_

Ciel was lazing about the manor's library, immersed in the ensnaring pages of _Kidnapped_ by Robert Louis Stevenson when the sensation arose without warning. It was a sharp squeezing in his lower abdomen, a tightness so shocking that his frame jerked with the surprise. It did not administer any pain on his person in any kind of fashion, but it discomforted him and the fright he suffered as a result seemed far more turbulent than any kind of anguish that could have taken its place.

Upon feeling it, the book slid from his jittering fingers and tumbled to the rug-lavished floor with a somber thud. Convulsing, he hunched over himself, clutching at his stomach with the urgency of a child clinging to its mother. A flush of cold doused his veins, his skin instantly growing bloodless, his petrified gaze becoming infatuated with the ground below. The seconds ticked by, and he didn't dare breathe, waiting on the brink of madness for the unbidden feeling to subside. When it did not, a thunder shrieked through his ears.

"S-Sebastian!" he wailed, an animalistic fret veiling his wavering tones. When nothing but loneliness answered, Ciel cried out again, this time with greater vigour, his bulging eyes beginning to water. "SEBASTIAN!"

"Right here, my Lord," A voice, with icy breath that blossomed upon the shell of his ear, cooed in the din. The unexpected presence caused Ciel to rear up his head, his vision coming to swim with his butler's lustreless hues. Upon analysing Ciel's inexcusable state, the demon immediately knelt down in front of his withered being and took Ciel's vibrating shoulder blades in his imperturbable grasp.

"Do not be frightened, Master," he stated with notes unruffled and completely collected. "These are merely Braxton Hicks Contractions. I shall explain in a moment, but for now, deep breaths, Sir."

Sebastian inhaled insistently, and Ciel was obliged to follow, a shaky gasp filling his starved lungs with much needed oxygen. It rapidly became a dance of slow, sufficient breathing, with Sebastian the lead and Ciel the pursuer. Once the sensation had been almost entirely stifled, Sebastian ceased the exercise.

"Now, can you still feel movement?" Sebastian queried with a flash of intensity in his vermillion irises.

Noticing how the infant rolled almost playfully in his stomach, Ciel winced, nodding, his voice fleeing from him.

"A good sign, than," Sebastian replied, his fingers loosening on his shoulders, but never releasing entirely. "Braxton Hicks Contraction usually are quite common at this stage of the pregnancy. Their simply function is to prepare the muscles for childbirth. Nothing more."

Ciel did not utter a sound in response to those words. He still refused to believe the inevitable, and had instead grown accustomed to becoming mute whenever anyone dared to speak of it. It was the only way he was really coping with the truth anymore; if he didn't react, than perhaps it would become a subject too bothersome to talk of.

Clearly aware of this, Sebastian sighed in a manner that could be described as almost wearisome. "I shall run a bath for you, my Lord."

 **XXX**

 **Hey guys!**

 **A short chapter, I know, but I feel like it's still important to the story. Just bear with it for a little longer; there'll be more action soon!**

 **HeartElyse**


	26. Chapter 26

_**To Be a Mother - Chapter Twenty-six**_

Amidst the solemn hour of midnight, Sebastian could not prevent himself from being thoroughly disturbed by the lonely cry of panic and anguish that rippled like a burst of static across the silence. The demon reared his head upwards, the task of lightly dusting the shelves in his Lord's study forgotten in an instant, his duties dubbed insignificant in the wake of that horrid yowl. His frame remained completely unyielding for a moment as he contemplated the most ideal course of action, and once he'd decided upon one, he placed the duster down upon his Master's desk and exited the room in a mere flutter of an eye.

Possibilities wired in Sebastian's mind like frantic little birds with an urgent need to flee the cage they'd been imprisoned as he transcended from the study to the boy's bedchambers. He'd witnessed the evidence of the ghastly dreams that plagued his Lord's mind on numerous occasions previously - although he was more vigilant on assisting after the quite perverse events of the first time he dared assist. But something about that earnest yell made Sebastian less inclined to believe that it was so on this occasion. Yet it was hardly accurate to conclude that the first stage of labour had begun, for the eighth month had barely eclipsed upon them, and the prospect of it even beginning at such an uncouth time was positively frightful. So that could only leave one possibility; the Night of the Tearing, as it was often classified by his breed, an event named appropriately because it rarely occurred at any other time except in the late hours of the evening.

Upon reaching the Earl's doors, Sebastian entered with haste and was instantly greeted by the darkness that seeped into the room like how ink seeped into parchment, but it did not impair his sight in the least. It was with little difficulty that he could envision the small, and heavily burdened child sitting up in the massive bed, his entire being engulfed in spasms as he hugged his limbs as tightly as he could in his compromised state. His eyes were maddened by wakefulness and pain as they gouged frantically at the shadows a human's gaze could not penetrate, his gasps of air far too erratic to be considered sound.

The boy tossed his head at the noise of the doors clicking to a close and immediately whimpered in a voice crippled by fear, "Sebastian?"

Approaching the Earl's indisposed side with as much kindness and ceremony as he could possibly manage, Sebastian cautiously obliged in situating himself on the very edge of the mattress, by his Lord's hip, and dipped his mouth slightly to murmur gently into the boy's ear, "What is the matter, my Lord?"

"I-I don't know," the child practically whined, squeezing his eyes shut, a clear barrage to the tears obviously rising within them.

"Explain it to me," Sebastian spurred, curling his fingers in what he imagined to be a consoling gesture around the boy's icy hand and carefully beginning to massage the terse sinew beneath. "Try to explain how it feels to me, Master. Does it feel like a painful tightening, like a contraction?"

"No," the child sobbed dryly in reply, shaking his head in utter desperation. "It's like something's stretching...or ripping apart... A kind of burning..."

Sebastian allowed a benevolent smile to wreath over his lips, a gift to his Lord's anxieties. "Than there is no need to panic," he assured, his claret stare growing soft upon his Master's petrified features. "That is what us demons refer to as 'The Night of the Tearing', in which a path is carved out for the child to be born. I am quite relieved it has finally occurred, my Lord. I was beginning to worry that it would not."

The boy appeared to recoil at that, his milky features oozing out into further transparency. His eyes did not part, but Sebastian did not need them to in order to know what consumed them at those words; a feverish dread that would have surely accelerated the tears welling inside them. He did not dare speak, his voice stifled by the mentioning of the inevitable, but withdrew his hand from Sebastian's grasp, an explicit indication of his honest feeling concerning the entire situation and Sebastian himself.

He instead wound his hands in the cotton bedsheets, his vice-like grip so unrelenting that all the blood drained from his fingers. The boy rocked slightly, clearly in defence against the sharp pain that ailed him.

Sebastian, believing that offering some form of sympathy to his Lord in his distress - despite its fabrication - was the most appropriate way to move forward, extended his fingers once more, intending to cup the boy's shoulder in an expression of his support. But just as his hand dared make contact, the boy burst open his eyes and unleashed a cutting snarl, breaking the contact almost immediately with a withering swat of his palm. Sebastian only had to infatuate himself with his Lord's gaze to recognise that the boy was no longer coherent with his reality anymore, but lost, lost in memories that he no longer had the will to fight and horrors that he no longer had the bravery to face.

Sebastian allowed his exasperation to trickle from him in one slow huff. It was going to be a long night...

XXX

"Sebastian?" the boy hummed timidly on the morning that followed. He was lying flaccid in the ceramic bath, idle and yielding as Sebastian scrubbed away the remnants of the evening's affair. "I...I have something to ask of you."

Sebastian could not hinder himself from being humoured. "There is no need to ask for permission, my Lord."

"I know that you damned fiend!" the boy snarled, his frame overcome by irate shivering...and undeniable fright. "Just...arg!"

Sebastian sobered, the smirk coating his lips receding into a thin line. It was clearly not the time for his amusements. "I apologise if I have offended you, Master. Please ask at your leisure."

The boy did not take action for a moment, but just continued to shudder in silence, as though steeling himself. And yet, as the child finally gathered the courage needed to utter a sound, his tones were so low and diminished that even Sebastian struggled to fathom it.

"H-how...do y-you...love...a d-demon child?"

Sebastian traced a single gloved finger over his chin, pretending to contemplate an answer, in spite of knowing that he could never give one. He was a demon after all; what did he possibly know of love?

"I'm afraid I have no answer to that, my Lord," he sighed, deflating somewhat with his words.

"Than what use are you to me?" the boy snapped, injecting Sebastian with a burst of shock. The child did not face him, but Sebastian didn't need to see his features to know that he was incensed beyond repair. "Get out. And that's an order."

The demon was flawed by the abrupt order, but did not hesitate further and retreated from the small chamber without a sound, choosing to instead wait outside the door, for he knew his Lord could not get himself out of the bathtub without assistance.

He did not need to press his ear to the keyhole to hear the choked wails coming from within...

 **XXX**

 **Hey guys!**

 **Things have been a little hectic lately, since it's Christmas and all that, which is why this is a little late. I've also been working on another Christmas story, which I hope to have published by Christmas Day.**

 **As for this story, there is some serious action coming, so be prepared!**

 **Now Mailbox:**

 ** _Promocat - Yes, it is nice to know that Sebastian knows what he's doing! As always, thank you so much for reading and reviewing! It's always so appreciated!_**

 ** _MassiveMilkshakeNerd - I'm glad you're enjoying it! Thank you so much for always reading and reviewing! Seeing your reviews always makes me so happy :)_**

 **Thanks for reading! And since I probably won't publish another chapter until after Christmas, Merry Christmas to you all!**

 **HeartElyse**


	27. Chapter 27

_**To Be a Mother - Chapter Twenty-seven**_

The 29th of August was a day that raved with beauty. The sky was cloudless, an azure ocean that could be seen for miles on end. The sun beamed down upon the earth with the same fondness as a mother marvelling over their child from a short distance away. And, in polite society, the world was so rich with happiness and laughter that it was beyond infectious.

At the Midford household, this was no exception. You see, at this very moment, during the earlier hours of the summer afternoon, the aristocratic family was hosting an outdoor party for the birthday of their dear son, Lord Edward.

It was an occasion set in their manor's own garden, a garden that was scrupulously divided into that of a kitchen garden, a fruitful orchard and a field rejuvenated by flushing almond and double peach blossoms. In the centre of it all, the guests stood or sat, in all their glamour and extravagance, either engaged in pleasant conversations, enjoying the peace, or dancing. The guests all held resonance with Edward and the Midfords in some way, such as those who Edward had become familiar with in school, or those who the family had acquainted through other means. In fact, at this very moment, Edward was having quite a raucous chat with those of Herman Greenhill, Joanne Harcourt, Clayton and Cheslock, while the Lady of the House, Marchioness Midford spoke to the mothers from behind her silk fan, and the Head of the House, Marquis Midford had an equally strident conversation with the fathers.

A pianist worked cordially by the edge of the patio, lightening the air with the best of Chopin. Two maids fluttered about, serving appetisers most accustomed to the season, while a butler provided champagne and apple juice.

Lady Elizabeth - clad in a lovely lime-green day frock to match her brother's own green attire - was drinking her own glass of apple juice when she ran into Prince Soma and his butler, Agni. It was through Ciel that the two had become dear friends, so it was a splendid surprise to see that he'd been invited to attend. She was a little amazed, however, to see him in such formal English garb - a cutaway black morning coat, fringed with silver buttons, with matching trousers, a grey waistcoat and a scarlet cravat. She'd only seen him in his native attire, unless you count the uniform he was obliged to wear at Weston.

"Why, hello, Prince Soma!" she greeted cheerily, curtsying to the young man.

"Lady Elizabeth!" he cried with just as much exuberance, struggling to keep himself from squashing her into a hug. "How great it is to see you!"

He substituted embracing her for taking her dainty hand in his and softly kissing it.

From behind, Agni simply pressed his two palms together and bowed to the Lady. "What a wonderful day for a party," he voiced amiably.

"Yes," Lizzy agreed, grinning.

Their conversation began with the general, courteous topics, such as the house, the garden, and the very business that brought them there. It was all quite nice and civil, and yet eventually, the conversation eloped to something far more pressing, something far more saddening and something that was playing on both their minds; the absence of Ciel.

"I really wish that Ciel could be here to see it," Lizzy announced with an exhaustive sigh, her chin dipping and her luscious eyelashes growing heavy.

"So do I," Soma hummed, his tones suddenly dull. "I don't think he's ever been away for so long."

The Lady's pupils began to glisten. "No he hasn't."

"I hope he's made some friends. I wouldn't want him to be lonely..."

"But Switzerland is such an isolated little place. I hardly ever hear from him."

Both the Prince and his Butler appeared to grow rigid with those words, and for a moment, neither spoke. And when Soma did, his voice wavered with uncertain confidence. "Nonsense! G-Germany is in the centre of Europe; surely it can't be that remote."

Elizabeth jerked up her gaze, her eyebrows furrowing. "Isn't Ciel in Switzerland? He told me he was going to Switzerland."

The Prince's expression hardened. "His Butler told me he was in Germany, and that Butler of his is never wrong."

Agni nodded in support from behind his Prince, awe flashing in his silvery irises. "I have to agree, my Lady. That Butler of Earl Phantomhive's is a miracle sent from the Gods. Making such a mistake is beneath him."

Lizzy placed a contemplative finger to her chin, her sorrowful eyes brightening with interest and fret. "It is not like Ciel to make such a blunder."

Soma bowed his head, fists clenching by his sides. "No... I don't like this at all."

Agni floated a consoling hand upwards to his Prince's terse shoulder. "Perhaps it would be best to visit the Phantomhive Estate once this engagement is over. Surely the servants would be able to -"

"No." Elizabeth snuffed the rest of what the butler was going to say, an unusual firmness turning her once doughy features to stone. "We shall go right away. I will return momentarily."

With a retreating curtsy and tuning out the Prince's cries of protest, she dashed away in a flutter to find her dear brother. She felt dread pool in her gut at the thought of his reaction to her proposal; it was his special day after all. But she could not bear to be shielded away from another of Ciel's secrets. Ciel may have believed that he was concealing her from something uncouth and ghastly, but she could not care less. It was another rift between them, and she was beyond weary of rifts.

Spotting Edward sharing a toast with Cheslock and Clayton, fellow prefects and good friends, Lizzy did not hesitate to tap upon his shoulder quite forcefully, and as he whirled around and pressed his gaze upon her, he exhibited a toothy smirk, clearly oblivious to the panic painting her expression.

"What is it, Lizzy?"

She payed his happiness no mind and instead stated in a voice so low that only he would hear, "We must go to the Phantomhive Manor. Right now!"

In an instant, Edwards emerald eyes turned sour. "Why must we do that?! Isn't Ciel away at the moment?!"

Desperate to express her utter yearning, Elizabeth cupped her brother's free hand in her own and presented to him that pleading stare that she knew he could not resist.

"Please, Edward! I've just come to the realisation after speaking to Prince Soma that Ciel has made a most tactless mistake. That is not like him at all! I fear that there is something terribly wrong! You must understand; I cannot rest until I at least find out if there is something wrong or not, which is why we must go! I'm very sorry, brother, but this isn't just a matter of him being my fiancé. He is also family, and it is our duty as family to look out for him, even if he does not wish it. He would surely do the same for us if we were in a similar predicament. So please try to see..."

Edward gnashed his teeth together, infatuating his gaze with anything but her. But when he could not stand another moment, he heaved out a breath, visibly deflating.

"As much as I hate it, you are right. It is our duty, and besides," removing his hand from her grasp to instead dust it over her cheek, he murmured, "even on my birthday, I would do anything for you."

Lizzy's eyes frothed with tears once more. "Thank you, Edward..."

Edward could only dip his head in acknowledgment. "I shall explain the situation to Mother and Father, and organise a carriage..."

 **XXX**

 **Hey guys!**

 **Sorry this was late! I've been really sick recently, and I just didn't feel up to posting. Anyway, I hope this was worth the wait! By the way, I don't actually know when Edward's birthday is, I use chose a date that worked for the story.**

 **Now Mailbox:**

 ** _Promocat - I know! I feel really bad for making him suffer through all this, but I also enjoy it too. I don't feel good about it though! As always, thank you for your constant support!_**

 ** _MassiveMilkshakeNerd - Yes, exactly! I hope you are ready, and I hope it meets your expectations! Thank you so much for the review and the constant support!_**

 ** _James Birdsong - Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed them!_**

 ** _Anonymous - Aww, thank you so much! I'm glad you have enjoyed it so far and I hope you continue to enjoy it!_**

 **As always, make sure to review, favourite and follow. I always love to here what you think, as it helps me so much in becoming a better writer :)**

 **Happy New Year to you all! Until next time!**

 **HeartElyse**


	28. Chapter 28

_**To Be a Mother - Chapter Twenty-eight**_

The dining hall shone gold in the flickering glow of the candles that bedazzled the room. Sebastian was stationed by his Lord's side, cast in the shadows of early evening, an impenetrable mask making his features appear as smooth as ivory. And yet beneath that mask, his thoughts were in a frenzy.

Watching his master eat was normally a mundane task; he was only required to be there in case the Earl happened to need anything. But now, as he observed the boy nibble upon the assortment of breads and cheeses that had been provided, wincing with each pitiful mouthful and growing paler with each harsh swallow, it was all rather gruelling. The meal was not very exotic of course, but Sebastian knew that was not the reason why the child looked so pained.

Sebastian noticed the sheen of perspiration beginning to coat the boy's forehead and internally heaved a sigh. His Harris Tweed garments would be ruined now; if only the child hadn't been so adamant about how undignified it was to walk around one's manor in only a nightshirt, even when one was poorly...

Meanwhile, the sharp stench of the cheddar was only making Ciel's nose wrinkle. His stomach was refusing to agree with it, and yet it hadn't been agreeing with anything lately. His insides just continued to churn like milk on the verge of curdling. Eating had become something quite impossible for him in the last few days, and yet Sebastian - that demon - still persisted in placing food in front of him, taking no regard in how it sickened him so.

With quavering fingers, Ciel pressed another slice of sourdough to his lips, and yet his teeth would not sink down upon it. They just chattered, a response to the sweat that flushed him all over with ice.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Ciel jolted against the crimson velvet of his seat. The sound of rapping caused his brain to rattle without mercy.

Sebastian twitched as well, his rouge irises shrinking against the whites of his eyes.

A commotion rapidly followed - the reverberation of a door bursting open, the thrumming of a cavalry's worth of footsteps against the marble floors, and the cry of voices. The noise ricocheted off the walls, making Ciel's ears scream. And yet through it all, those voices, although distant and undefined, spoke to him like old friends.

And the very thought filled him with dread.

Jerking his head to face Sebastian dead on, his lips parted, words on the brink of tumbling free, words on the brink of saving him, saving him from the reality of his most violent fears. And yet no sound ever got the chance to be rid of him.

With a turbulence that almost shredded the dining room doors from their hinges, in entered truly his worst nightmare.

His fiancé, Lady Elizabeth and his friend, Prince Soma led the marching band, with his Aunt Francis, Uncle Alexis and Cousin Edward flanking them, while his servants - Bard, Finny, Mey-Rin, Snake and Tanaka - all flustered and dithering, held the rear.

They all appeared to freeze in perfect harmony when their eyes landed on him, but Ciel could not make out their faces clearly enough to see the astonishment embellishing them. His sight had become nothing but liquid, and he was hopelessly drowning in it, this unpredictable happening sending him reeling over the edge.

Sebastian could only stand scrupulously still, his mock bones locked in rigidness as he observed the scene unfold. For now, his Lord's condition was neatly tucked behind the table, out of sight and out of mind. But Sebastian knew, with immense conviction, that it would only be a matter of time.

The butler watched as the blood drained from the Lady Elizabeth's rosy cheeks, in a similar manner as one who'd seen a ghost. Prince Soma's lips began to quiver, a flood of emotion gushing over his expression. The Lady Midford appeared unassuaged by the sight of her estranged nephew, her features a framework of harsh lines and stern creases - except for her eyes, which were bulging from the sockets. The Lord Edward's mouth was slack, and yet his eyes were ablaze. And as for the Marquis, well, his stoney features did not break into their usual affections, but into quite the opposite.

"We're sorry, Young Master," came Bard's voice from the ajar door. "We tried to stop 'em, we really did, but it didn' seem right ta use force on 'em."

The five servants all milled together, with Mey-Rin twiddling her thumbs, Snake standing erect in the same fashion as the adder perched on his shoulder, Tanaka pressing his hand mournfully over his heart, Bard bowing his head low, and Finny playing with the sleeve of his shirt, eyes watering.

Sebastian flicked his gaze back to his master, curious to witness the boy's reaction. But upon looking at him, the butler realised that the child was no longer present. Although his body had not even flinched, his mind had long since floated away, or at least withdrawn. What swept a chill through the demon however, was the boy's eye. It was stretched wide, the pupil dilated, the blackness gnawing away the electric-blue, leaving something behind that Sebastian had prayed never to glimpse in his Lord's stare; insanity.

He had sensed it all becoming a bit too much for his master, but had this truly been the final straw?

"Ciel!" Soma was the first to speak, but the cheeriness that was normally prolific in his voice had withered and been replaced by hurt passion. "Why are you here? You said you would be in Germany for a whole year!"

"And you told me you were going to Switzerland," Elizabeth continued, a new fiery colour bringing life to her cheeks once more. A snarl curled her lips and her eyes began to tremble in the candlelight. "You said it to my face! W-why would you lie to me? Why do you always lie?!"

The girl lifted a hand to her eyes, as though trying to quench the maelstrom eager to come spilling out of them. Her brother, with an urgent need to provide comfort to her, made to furl his arms around her. She merely shoved him away.

Angered by the rejection, Edward rounded upon the only one he believed worthy of the blame; his cousin, Ciel.

"How could you do this to Elizabeth?!" he growled, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking furiously. "You're always the reason she cries. I-I'm so mad that I can't even bear to look at you right now!"

To Ciel, their words were like tides. They'd crashed against him like waves on a crumbling shore, but then washed away, as if they'd never come to exist in the first place. He could not absorb them. He could not understand them. To put it plainly, he could not really hear them.

There was a tinkering of glass. Prince Soma had taken a ceramic dish from the lavish tabletop and pegged it against the wall, where it erupted into a thousand shards.

"My Prince!"

Agni, who'd remained behind with the other servants immediately burst forward in response to his master's notion and placed his gloved hands upon the young man's shuddering shoulders, in hopes of steadying him. Unlike Elizabeth, Soma did not push his butler away.

"I just don't understand," the Prince choked as he dipped his head, his fringe falling over his smouldering eyes. "What is so important that you would have to lie, Ciel?"

"Your father was always like this," Francis cut in, her tone severe, but her eyes glinting with sorrow. "He was always keeping secrets, always lying. And you know, in the end, it got him killed..."

Alexis did not speak, but simply frowned, and that alone was enough to say all that needed to be said on his part.

Agni cast his gaze from his Prince to the wretchedly pale boy at the end of the table and served to ask the question that was on everyone's mind. "Please, Earl Phantomhive, do explain to us what has been going on."

The silence that followed was deafening. It was like a vacuum, slowly sucking the life from all of them. For the longest time, his Lord did not seem to even breathe. His eye had not changed, but remained set into his face like a swallowing maw of darkness. Sebastian feared that he would not speak at all, and yet just as the butler dared to speak for him, he opened his mouth and husked out a single order, which sounded more like a plea.

"Wait for me in the drawing room. I will be with you momentarily."

For a moment, none of the guests responded. However, without a single utterance, each eventually turned to exit the room, an eerie mood making their bones heavy.

Sebastian. Sebastian. Sebastian.

Ciel felt just like a child all over again, shaking, terrified. And just like the pathetic childishness that seemed to be infecting his very soul, his desire for comfort and reassurance was almost crippling. He just needed someone, anyone to just...hold him and tell him what to do, for God, he didn't know. The very horrors that had been swirling in his mind for the past nine months were coming to life right before his eyes, and he could feel his facade of control slipping right through his fingers.

He needed his demon. And he needed him now, for he was beyond frightened of what should become of him if he faced another moment with only his rabid thoughts as company.

But he never got the chance to converse alone with his butler, because before the visitors could exit the room, something wet and slippery drenched the fabric of his trousers. A strangled cry was shredded from his lips without permission and the head's of his guests whipped round, halted by his exclamation.

Sebastian was kneeling by his side in an instant. "My Lord?!"

Ciel hooked his fingers in the material of the butler's tailcoat, his fright rearing so high inside him that he felt he'd loose himself, should he let go.

"S-Sebas-tian...I-I think...m-my w-water just..."

Sebastian felt his fabricated lungs squeeze. He did not need his Lord to continue, for the elusive scent of blood and new life had already arisen to his sensitive demon nose.

The Earl's water had broken. The baby was on its way...

And in that exact instant, Ciel's eyes rolled back into oblivion...

 **XXX**

 **Hey guys!**

 **Here's another chapter for you all! For once it isn't delayed! It was slightly, to be fair, but only because FanFiction was down yesterday and wouldn't let me.**

 **Now, I do have some sad news, but please bear with me. This story IS coming to an end. There are only a few chapters left, all of which I have already written. There are reasons for this, and I shall explain them to you. If you don't want to hear them, that's okay; just don't read on.**

 **This is the second novel-like story I have ever written, and in fact, it is also the longest story I have ever written. And while that is great, it has been a challenge for me - a 'struggle' might even be a better word. While at first, it was really fun to write this, eventually it became quite painful, especially towards the end.**

 **Although I started publishing this story halfway through last year, I actually started writing this story about a year ago. By the time I did start publishing it, I was a quarter of the way through writing it. Choosing to publish it at that point was both my asset and my curse, for while it did inspire me to keep writing, it also inspired me to rush and not exactly make the work as perfect as I had originally envisioned it to be. Thus, why I am not completely happy with how it has turned out.**

 **Now, I am not saying this story turned out badly, because I don't think it did. I think it still is one of my best works so far, considering how I have only ever written one novel-like story in the past. And I'm not saying how I ended it was bad either, so don't worry. It's just that when I ended it about a month ago, it made me so sad that I pretty much went into a 'writing depression' - if you like - for four weeks straight. I couldn't bear to write at all.**

 **If there is one thing I've learned while writing, it's to write what makes you happy. Otherwise, what's the point? Now, this story DID make me happy for a long time, but now it does not, and that makes me feel bad, because I know it makes you guys happy. But it has been really hard for me, which is why, with the new year, I have made the decision to let this story go. I also know that this year, I will be quite busy, so I'll have less time to focus on my writing. So when I do have the time, I want to write what makes me happy and write something even better than this story, if I can. And hopefully, it shall make you guys happy as well!**

 **I believe I have made this story's ending satisfying, but I believe it also leave room to imagine, if you guys wish to. I will make no promises about a sequel; I will not promise that I will write one, and I will not promise that I won't write one. However, I think if I do choose to write a sequel, it won't be for a long time.**

 **If you did not read all of that, than that is okay, but if you did, I thank you and hope you can understand.**

 **Mailbox:**

 ** _James Birdsong - As always, thank you so much! Thanks for sticking with the story!_**

 ** _Anon - Thank you, Anon! I'm glad you enjoyed it! I guess you'll just have to wait and see ;) Thanks for being a faithful reader!_**

 ** _Guest - Thanks for faithfully reading and I'm glad you've been enjoying it so far! As for your critique, I really appreciated it! Although I have finished writing all the chapters for this story, I'll make sure to keep that in mind for the next big story I write. Thank you!_**

 ** _Promocat - You concern is clearly warranted! Thank you for always reading and reviewing! It always makes me so happy!_**

 ** _FangirlCadence - I wasn't either to be honest, which was why I wanted to write it in a different way. I'm glad you like it and are enjoying it! Thank you for your review!_**

 ** _MassiveMilkshakeNerd - It turns out it's not good, for now that is ;) I know, I love Edward, even if he can be a little too overprotective sometimes! Thank you, and I am feeling better, thank you for asking! And thank you for always being so faithful to all of my fanfics! It is so appreciated!_**

 **That was by far the longest Author's Notes I have ever written. If you read it all, than I am so thankful.**

 **I love you all! Until next chapter!**

 **HeartElyse**


	29. Chapter 29

**_To Be a Mother - Chapter Twenty-nine_**

Once again, Ciel found himself within that void of irrepressible darkness, the aura of death freezing his veins and making his heart shiver. However, what made this time far more unbearable was the unimaginable agony that was resonating from his lower abdomen and surging through his every fibre in crashing waves. With a blood-curdling howl, his legs grew incredibly numb beneath him and he slumped to his knees, his arms curling like a vice around his convulsing body in hopes of stifling the pain.

An animalistic terror sent a whimper tumbling from his lips. Never had he wanted to escape his body so much. He knew what was coming, but knew with just as much vigour that he could not face it. He'd had to bear so much in his short life, but knew with all the conviction in his heart that this was going to shatter him. He could already hear the glass breaking.

"Ciel..."

That voice. Like silk on skin. Like a harp singing in the wind. Ringing with familiarity. Ringing with warmth. Ringing with love.

Ciel dared rear up his quivering head and could not refrain from gasping at the sight of the dazzling spectacle that danced before his watering eye.

A phantom of light she was. A glorious spectre of gold, with hair that shined like the sun and skin that appeared to hold the very epiphany of the stars in its depths. Her figure cut the darkness into smithereens and bathed Ciel in a glow more vibrant than any full moon. Everything was flaxen, except for her eyes, which were a rich blue. Like his own...

A strangled sob bubbled in his throat. "Mother?..."

Her lips rose in a smile that didn't quite reach her anguished eyes. "Oh, Ciel," she whispered in a tone overflowing with unquenchable emotion as she lowered herself down upon her own knees and took his head in her hands, cradling it against her chest. "If I could take away your pain, I would not hesitate for a moment."

Ciel buried his face in the folds of her muslin gown. The distinct scent of roses that wafted from it made the sides of his throat knit themselves together. "H-how are you here?"

"My son, I've never truly left," she cooed into his ear, rocking him gently from side to side. An awful clenching in Ciel's abdomen made his shoulder blades knot together as a guttural moan rumbled his chest, the distress in the sound echoing longer than the sound itself. His mother only hushed him in the way she used to when storms used to frighten him, her rocking remaining unswerving.

"I'm so afraid," he finally wailed, his frame quaking senselessly, his tears drenching his mother's dress. "I just don't think I can do this."

"I know, I know," she hummed, planting a kiss on Ciel's disheveled slate hair. "So was I. So are all mothers... But you're not alone, Ciel; you have so many people around you that love you and care about you, who'd drop everything just to see you well. They'll always be there for you, and sometimes, that's all the help you need. You should never forget that... And it was all worth that fear and that pain, because in the end, I had you..."

"But how can I possibly love a demon child?" Ciel cried, lifting his earnest and tear-stained face to gaze with such despair at his mother. "How can you still love me, after everything I've done?..."

Raising a delicate finger, his mother caressed his sodden cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "Because a mother's love is unconditional, and no matter what you have done or will do, I shall always love you. That is a mother's vow... And although you may not believe me now, you shall feel the same way for your own child, regardless of what it is. You won't be able to help it; it is simply what it means to be a mother."

Another flood of tears trickled down Ciel's cheeks. "C-can I stay here until it's born?"

His mother's sad grin remained, even as she shook her head. "Your child can't be born unless you're there to help it through, and besides, the people who love you most are waiting for you." She placed another kiss to his cheek, allowing her lips to linger for a moment longer. "But your father and I shall always be with you, not matter where you go or what you do. We love you very much. We always will."

The slightest smile shuddered on Ciel's lips. "I love you too..."

XXX

Ciel cracked open his eyes to find his vision swimming with faces cast in ambient candlelight. He was lying slumped upon the mattress of his bed, with Sebastian, the servants, his friends, and his family all hovering around him, their anxiety almost drowning him with its abundance.

"My Lord," Sebastian simpered to his left, the relief as clear as day in his voice as he rubbed a damp washcloth over Ciel's clammy forehead. "You've finally awoken."

Ciel could feel someone's fingers squeezing the life from his right hand, and when he turned his head, he saw Lizzy, with tears lavishing her face and cheeks a deathly pale. "Oh, Ciel," she croaked, sniffling. "Thank goodness you're okay."

Edward was merely clutching her shoulders, concern ablaze in his solemn expression. His Aunt Francis was sitting on the edge of the mattress, imploring Ciel with her angular eyes, while her husband sat beside her, his own eyes shimmering. Soma was leaning heavily over the end of the bed, appearing almost ready to burst into tears. Agni was at his side, with his hands together in prayer. Finny was sobbing into the mattress, his little body writhing with the immensity of it. Mey-Rin had her hands beneath her glasses, brushing away the tears that had managed to slip free. Bard scratched sheepishly at the back of his head, a sigh breezing from his mouth. Snake was simply bowing his head low, the black-and-red adder on his shoulder following suit. And Tanaka stood with his hand over his heart, his lips smoothing into a soft grin.

The very sight of them all made Ciel's own tears froth in his eyes once more.

"Do they know?" Ciel inquired to Sebastian, his tone overcome by rawness. The demon only nodded.

"Do you wish for me to remove them all from the room?"

But Ciel shook his head, his tears only growing all the more determined to spill as he heard their protests flutter around the chamber. He remembered his mother's words and chose to stay true to them.

"No. Let them stay." He turned to each one of them and gave them all a broken smile. "I need them here..."

 **XXX**

 **Hey guys!**

 **Here's another chapter. There are only two chapters left, so I aim to get them edited and posted within the next week.**

 **Now, Mailbox:**

 ** _Promocat - I guess it was about time, but he might've finally managed to pull through. Thank you for always reading and reviewing!_**

 ** _ChlomeTov - I hope it meets your expectations! Yes, I was originally planning to make this story longer. However, due to the reasons I mentioned last chapter, I really can't go on. It kills me too when authors do that, so I decided that if I'm not going to finish this story the way I planned, I was at least going to give it a decent ending, for you guys and myself. I hope this has answered your question and I'm glad you have enjoyed it! Thank you!_**

 **Until next time!**

 **HeartElyse**


	30. Chapter 30

_**To Be a Mother - Chapter Thirty**_

The grating screams of someone in unspeakable pain and of someone facing an almighty struggle was all that could be heard chiming through the halls of the Phantomhive Manor on that peculiar summer night. The cries had not ceased at all, and it had been at least an hour since they'd begun. One also can't fail to mention the profound insults that could be heard joining the harmony as well, all aimed at a certain butler, who in spite of that, only served to continue his encouragement with all the more exuberance.

With the butler as the exception, Dr Marat, upon his hurried arrival with the midwife, Jade Wilston, had ordered all the other guests and servants to remain outside in the hall during the birth, so that he himself had freedom to move as needed and so that the mother to be would not become too overwhelmed. They had of course been reluctant; Ciel, in his desperate throws of anguish, had confessed to them all just how frightened he was, which had greatly unnerved them all, for never had they ever seen Ciel in such a state before, overlooking Tanaka of course.

"I'm so scared," he had sobbed as another contraction had seized him, making him bite his lip so hard that blood dribbled down his chin. "I-I really don't- agh!...know if I can do this..."

His breathing had become so erratic that all feared he might faint again. Francis had taken his quivering hand in her own, and rubbing her thumb soothingly over his bloodless knuckles, she had hushed, "Just breathe, Ciel dear... Nice slow, gentle breaths... I promise, it shall help."

"Just remember why you agreed to do this, my Lord," Sebastian had cooed in his velvety voice from the other side of the bed, allowing the boy to bury his sweat and tear-sodden face into the breast pocket of his tailcoat. "For your Aunt Anne."

The boy had merely released another aggrieved whimper. It was then that they all realised just how much Ciel needed them by his side, and had all silently agreed that they would not leave it without difficulty. However, after some cajoling from both Sebastian and the doctor, with the assurance that their departure would be the best for the boy, they had all finally receded, and now waited by the door of the Earl's chambers. They all huddled close by it, a contemplative and concerned silence filling their absence of words, the void between Nobility and Servitude be damned, for regardless of their status in life, they all cared very deeply for the young boy that resided behind that door, and that was all that mattered.

Sebastian had rather briefly explained to them the magnitude of the Earl's condition while the said Earl had been indisposed. The possibility had assisted in illuminating all the truths behind all the lies the boy had told over the past several months, and yet the possibility also seemed quite irrational. However, Sebastian had insisted that they ask their questions later, to which they had all respected without complaint.

"How much longer is this going to last?" Edward huffed, wincing as another howl emitted from the room beyond.

Francis shook her head, her eyes drooping low with a forlorn expression which did not suit her at all. "It is impossible to tell. Sometimes it takes no longer than a quarter-hour; sometimes it takes many hours."

"It took you almost two hours to be born," Alexis murmured to his son as he held his wife against his chest. Francis was not often one for public affection, but now, her uncertainty had convinced her to accept it with open arms. "The wait was terrible."

"But what if Ciel can't bear it for such a time?" Elizabeth choked, blowing her nose into the handkerchief that her brother had offered her. She shared the handkerchief with both Finny and Prince Soma, who both stood beside her with tears dripping with just as much energy down their faces as her own, and although it was a little revolting, no one seemed to care.

"I am sure that Young Master Ciel will be fine," hummed Tanaka, glancing at all their glum faces with great passion in his wise gaze. "He has suffered a great many things in his short life. We must have hope that he can bear this as well, even when he does not."

"B-but Ciel is only just a boy," Soma spluttered, accepting the handkerchief from Elizabeth and scrubbing at his leaking eyes. "At his age, I-I would not have survived such a thing."

Agni placed a consoling hand upon the young man's arm and squeezed it gently. "My Prince, do not worry. You have been a friend to Earl Phantomhive for a long time now, and you know how strong and stubborn he is. He shall make it through; you'll see."

"He was able to recover from that illness in Germany," Snake informed with more confidence than he actually felt. "A strong fellow Smile is...says Wordsworth."

Finny tucked his face into his elbow, his lips wobbling. "It just sounds so horrible though...all the screaming...like the poor master's dying in there..."

As if in answer, another shriek split the din, followed by a shower of raw mewls.

Bard reached over and ruffled the boy's hair, a solemnity to his normally vibrant eyes. "Hey, don' speak like that. He'll be okay."

"Yes, he'll be okay," Mey-Rin whispered, her hands clutching the cloth covering her chest as she looked up at the ceiling. "He has to be, yes he does!"

They spoke no more, listening, waiting, all in gruelling agony...

It felt like an age before that final cry cleaved the night into pieces, floating between the realms of a growl and a wail. A hungry gasp of air immediately pursued it before their ears were greeted by nothing. Pure quiet. Perhaps to them, the quiet served to be more uncomfortable than the constant screams...

But then the door creaked cautiously open and out sidled both Sebastian and the doctor, Sebastian looking all out of sorts with his hair disorderly and a light bruise corrupting his frosted cheek, and Dr Marat looking wary with sweat upon his brow and the creases of his face appearing all the more defined. But both were unmistakably grinning - Sebastian more smirking, of course, but that was to be expected of the unusual butler.

"The Earl is alive and well," the doctor confirmed, beaming amidst the gloom. "Although he wasn't able to stay awake for a moment longer. He is resting now."

Everyone swayed in their relief.

"And the baby?" Mey-Rin questioned, her eyes forming a glaze of tears.

The doctor and butler turned to each other for a second, but when they turned back, their smiles had only become further pronounced.

Sebastian gave a dramatical cough. "The _babies_ are perfectly alright."

"Babies?" Alexis exclaimed, his emerald eyes bulging. "You mean-?"

"Yes," Sebastian purred, dipping his head. "The Young Master has given birth to healthy twins; a boy and a girl. The midwife is with them now."

Immediately, those within the hall began to dance, their soft cheers flittering through the narrow space as embraces of happiness were passed all around. Even Sebastian was hugged on a few occasions.

"Yes, well," Sebastian declared while he was being squashed by Finny. "We shall celebrate with the Young Lord later. For the meantime, would anyone care for some tea? Chamomile shall serve as a sufficient blend after the events of this evening, I believe, if anyone is interested."

 **XXX**

 **Hey guys!**

 **Here is the second-last chapter! Just one more to go now! I decided not to show the birthing scene too much, just because I want to keep this story T rated, if you know what I mean. It might've ended up being a bit too much for the T rating if I had.**

 **Anyway, Mailbox:**

 ** _Promocat - I guess we'll find out if that's really true in the next chapter! Thanks for reading!_**

 ** _FangirlCadence - Thank you so much! Reading your review made me so happy. What you said made me feel so much better about ending this story, and so I am very grateful. I'm glad you have enjoyed it and I hope you continue to enjoy it, right until the very end!_**

 **The final chapter should be published in the next few days, so until then, ciao!**

 **HeartElyse**


	31. Chapter 31

_**To Be a Mother - Chapter Thirty-one**_

Ciel awoke to the sun brightening his window. To begin with, he did not dare open his eyes, for the lethargy that clutched at his sore, aching body was far too comforting for him to want to escape so soon. Oh, how he desired in that moment to wear out the rest of his sorry existence in this way, curled up in his bed like an oyster in its shell, his only company the ecstasy of stillness and the delicious warmth swallowing him whole.

However, he knew that it was not to be, for the light was only getting more insistent by the second, and while spending the rest of his days sleeping had been quite appealing, he knew that it just wouldn't do.

Ciel's eyelids were as flaccid as syrup as he unclosed them, inviting the morning's glow to pierce him. He winced, tossing his head a little against his pillow, taking all that he could bear into his squinting eye.

The room was empty, bar for the small blue cot situated by his bedside table. The image cleaved a frown on his features, for Ciel could not recall for a second why there would be a need for such an object in his chambers.

It was only when the tiniest of rustlings dithered in the silence that it all come rushing back to him. And it rushed back like a tidal wave...

As if a wire had been shoved up his spine, Ciel immediately bolted upright in bed, and almost immediately, he realised he shouldn't have. He flinched, and with a gasp that wracked his lungs, he toppled back against the mattress, his entire frame throbbing with pain. Shock paralysed him, leaving him shaking amidst the bedsheets.

As if his cry had rung through the neighbouring air, his chamber door instantly burst wide and in strode his butler, a concern - fabricated or not, Ciel could not fathom - distorting his ashen features.

"My Lord," Sebastian exclaimed, reaching Ciel's side and resting a firm hand upon his quivering shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Ciel sucked in another harsh breath, feeling the brunt of his pain gradually subsiding. And yet still, he shook his head.

"T-the children... Are they...?"

Perhaps the most affectionate smile that Ciel had ever seen produced by the demon was there, upon Sebastian's pale lips.

"Does the Young Master wish to see them?"

Without waiting for a reply, Sebastian moved to the cot and stooping low over it, he retrieved two small bundles of blankets and gently transferred them into Ciel's arms.

Upon seeing the little faces hidden within the blankets, Ciel felt a strange sensation stir inside him, something so overwhelmingly warm that it stifled him and tears swam in his eyes.

They both had his blue eyes, and both were so small, and looked so fragile, they could have been made of mere glass.

He didn't have a choice. His heart had already run away with them. He was already in love...

And the very thought caused his tears to pour like rain...

"Do they displease you, my Lord?" came Sebastian's soft, almost anxious voice from Ciel's side.

"N-no... I don't know... I don't understand why I'm..." Ciel's words were drowned by his almost hysterical sobs.

Sebastian immediately whisked the two children from Ciel's arms before his cries could cause them panic. Instead, Sebastian wrapped his own arms around the boy and held him close. Ciel simply melted into the touch, too far gone to pull away.

"It's alright, Master," Sebastian hushed into his ear. "It is merely the hormones, and perhaps the relief of it all being finally over... You can rest now..."

XXX

"So, have you thought of names, my Lord?"

Ciel's two children were once again folded in his arms, their eyes closed in slumber while his eyes were lax with tiredness and red from his tears. A sphere of tenderness went out from them both, and he couldn't help being smothered by it.

He turned his weak gaze to the butler by his side - the butler who had not dreamed of leaving his side for but a moment, not even with how irritably he had acted over the past nine months - and conjured a genuine smile to his lips.

"Darcy...and Eileen... Darcy and Eileen Phantomhive."

Sebastian dipped his head, his amiable grin perhaps more stark on his features than usual. "What beautiful names, Master."

Ciel's smile only remained, but as he looked back upon his children, it dimmed somewhat.

"How long will they be with me again?"

"Three months." There was almost a solemnity to the demon's voice as he spoke, a solemnity that Ciel would not forget.

Ciel peered closely at his two dear children, and imprinting each and every detail of this moment to memory, he made a vow.

"Than I shall do all I can to raise them in such a short time and love them, regardless of what they are or what they do. I guess that is what it means to be a mother..."

Sebastian released a purr. "Have they found a way to melt your heart, my Lord?"

Ciel could only smirk warmly. "Yes, I think they have..." A laugh escaped him, untarnished, uncorrupted, as soft as an angel's feather dancing in the wind. It even caused Sebastian's eyes to round in utter bedazzlement; he had heard the boy laugh before, but never like this, not with such raw honesty as he allowed now.

His gaze arose to Sebastian once again, and within it, a dampness fluxed, but it did not make his eyes droop as it had before. On the contrary, it made them glow.

"I've been such a fool, haven't I?"

Sebastian did not dare to twitch for a moment, but allowed his lips to wordlessly part and hold their new shape. However, as the seconds ticked by, his mouth curled upwards again, an assurance taking over his features that he himself couldn't decide was true or not. He bent down on one knew before his Lord and allowed a hand to rest upon the boy's eased shoulder.

"Perhaps, Master... But than again, all humans can be foolish when they are afraid. It is only when the fear goes that one realises the extent of their irrationality... It is a sign that your humanity may have not faded away after all, my Lord..."

"Yes, perhaps you're right, Sebastian," Ciel murmured, his eyes growing distant as his musings traveled to a place where Sebastian couldn't follow. "Perhaps my humanity hasn't frozen over completely."

Sebastian nodded, his dark splendour illuminated in the light of the sun streaming into the chamber. "On the contrary, Master, your humanity is burning brighter than ever..."

THE END

 **XXX**

 **Hey guys!**

 **Well, here it is; the fluff I know you've all been waiting for! I know it's taken a really long time, but I hope it was worth it!**

 **This also marks the end of this story, which is both heartbreaking and exhilarating. For this story, I have now received over 100 reviews, which is beyond amazing, and I am so thankful to anyone who ever contributed to that number. I'm also thankful to everyone who ever favourited or followed this story, or to anyone who simply read it in silence. Your support was, and still is so important to me. The fact that anyone liked this story enough to keep reading it makes me beyond happy, for it was a wacky concept, and I wasn't sure if anyone was actually going to like it. I guess my concerns were proven unwarranted.**

 **Now, I have a few new projects I'm working on, so if you're interested, keep your eyes open for them in the near or distant future.**

 **Once again, thank you all so much. I love you all!**

 **Until next time!**

 **HeartElyse**


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